The Phantom and the Secretary Mysteries 2
by Mlle. Phoenix Fox
Summary: While at a tea party, a homeless man stumbles in with a knife wound, killing him a few hours later. But the man was the long lost husband of a wealthy matron, not a vagabond. Now Erik and Antoinette are on the job. Complete!ErikOC
1. Chapter 1

_**A/N: I just want to say thanks to Charity for being my first reviewer ever! I'm glad you liked the concept of Firmin and Andre becoming friends with Erik. And if you liked that...wait till you see who I bring up to make a guest appearance in this one!**_

**_And for Angel of Mystery, thanks for being my second reviewer. And i will keep writing as long as I get reviews. I was going to wait to put this second installment up until I got either five reviews for Ring of Fire, or if I finished it. Whichever came first. But when I realized Ring of Fire was getting pushed back to the thrid page of the category already, I figured I start submiting one chapter at a time to get some interest built up in my series. _**

**_So for all of you who are reading this without reading my first story yet, read the Phantom and the Secretary Mysteries #1 Ring of Fire! It will help explain the exposition for this story._**

**_And as always, please review! Especially let me know if you like the romance btw Erik and Antoinette! I'd really like to know. And please stayed tuned for more adventures of the Phantom and the Secretary. I plan to send them to America, Asia, Persia (where I'll start mixing in some Laruex and Kay influences) And if anyone has any suggestions for a concept I could use, please review and tell me!_**

**_Now, on with the show!_**

**_Peace, love and Lipgloss, _**

**_Mlle. Fox_**

_**The Phantom and the Secretary Mysteries#2 The Corpse Who Came to Tea**_

_While at a tea party, a homeless man stumbles in with a knife wound, killing him a few hours later. But the man was the long lost husband of a wealthy matron, not a vagabond. Now Erik and Antoinette are called on to assist Firmin and Andre discover why this man faked his death, who killed him, and the international conspiracy that threatens all of Europe!_

_DISCLAIMER: THE AUTHOR OF THIS STORY DOES NOT OWN ANY CHARACTERS OF THE PHANTOM OF THE OPERA CANON; JUST THE ORIGINAL CHARACTERS NOT AFFILIATED WITH THE ORIGINAL STORY. BASED ON ALW VERSION._

_1875_

The back gardens of Madame Jacquard were bright and fragrant with flowers and quests enjoying their afternoon tea. Even the roses were competing with the young debutants in their day dresses. Madame Jacquard was laughing with Madame Richard over something M. Pontiblu said.

"My oh my, I swear Darlings! I swear I said 'I want you to MISS me you silly thing!', Heavens!" Yes, it was indeed a pleasant, peaceful, beautiful day.

"Toni, sometimes I just loathe you!" said a young blond lady to Antoinette Carone's right. She was in a group of four of her female friends, sitting at a table with a centerpiece of sweets and breads. Antoinette sipped her tea and said with a smile dancing on her lips as she asked,

"Why Jezebel Lancer, whatever do you mean?" Jezebel looked deliberately across the gardens to a small grove of trees to where a certain tall, well-dressed young man with an eye patch sat alone on a bench in the shadows of the branches drinking his tea.

"You already have half the men of Paris charmed by your working class ways. Now you have a gorgeous man escort you to this party and you tell us he's living in the same house as you! You should be beheaded!" said Jezebel with teasing envy.

"Don't drop the blade just yet, Cherie. Not only do I swear we are taking our relationship slowly, shut up Marie!" Antoinette told a dark haired brunette to her left, who exchanged looks with a strawberry blond. She continued, "Even then we have a butler, a maid, a cook and two middle aged employers acting as chaperones. We haven't had a moment's privacy since that case in England a five weeks ago."

"What's his name, anyway?" asked the strawberry blond named Anne Railleur taking a bite out her strawberry tart.

"M. Erik DuL'Soir." answered Antoinette.

"Ah! Even his name is handsome!" said Marie.

"Well if you ask me..."said a raven-haired woman with icy blue eyes named Joan Age.

"No one did!" quipped Antoinette sending Jezebel into giggles.

"I consider it very rude for him to be off by himself not talking to anyone!" finished Joan. Antoinette looked at her and informed her,

"It is not rudeness, Mlle. Age. M. DuL'Soir suffers from an acute case of extreme shyness brought on by years of a neglectful childhood."

"Shyness?" asked Anne.

"He does resemble a little boy hiding behind his mother's skirts, doesn't he?" said Jezebel noting his careful watchful manner and avoiding eye contact with anyone who passed him.

"I've never met a man who is shy before." said Marie with curiosity.

"Well, he's only shy around strangers. With his closest friends he's charming, funny and a wicked flirt!" said Antoinette taking a forkful of cake.

"And how many close friends does he have?" asked Joan knowingly.

"Counting M. Andre, M. Firmin and myself?...Three." admitted Antoinette sheepishly.

"I could never be with a man who is shy. I'd get too bored!" said Joan in a self-assured tone.

"Trust me my dears. Erik DuL'Soir is anything but boring! He's such a complex individual with so many different facets to his personality. He's intelligent, artistic, determined, and sensitive. I may work for a detective agency, but Erik is the greatest mystery I've ever encountered." said Antoinette smiling at the man across the way.

"Again, I say I just loathe you Toni!" said Jezebel dryly as her friends joined her in laughter. Erik looked up from his boots in the grass and watched Antoinette laughing with her companions. She didn't laugh in a soft, soundless and polite manner, but with a loud and joyful sound that came from the depths of her soul. She looked so beautiful when she laughed. He was so lost in his musings about her, he never noticed the pair of patent leather shoes carry a tall, thin red haired young man with a permanent impish grin on his face over to his side. Following Erik's line of vision, the young man said,

"Lovely view!" Erik stiffened and said clearing his throat,

"What is?" The man sat down beside him and pointed to the table,

"Why that group of the most beautiful girls in France. But then, I think every female I meet is beautiful in her own way, so I'm completely bias. Maurice Richard, pleasure to meet you!" Erik shook his extended hand and glanced into the newcomers brown eyes,

"Erik DuL'Soir." Maurice said taking back his own hand,

"Ah, so you're the lucky devil who's seen constantly on the arm of the famous Mlle. Toni Carone! My congratulations friend, every man in Paris wishes to be in your boots right now. Myself included."

"I beg your pardon?" asked Erik in confusion.

"Well, Mlle. Carone is one of the most desirable women around. But until you came along, she brushed off every males advances telling them she was waiting for something special to come along. I'm guessing that would be you, my friend!" Maurice told him.

"She said that?" asked Erik feeling a twinge of pride.

"She did you fortunate dog! I'm just curious as to why she's over there and you're over here by yourself!" said Maurice.

"I...had a very sheltered upbringing. This world of society is completely new and foreign to me. Before I met Mlle. Carone I never had to deal much with people." explained Erik.

"Well I sort of figured that when you told my mother she was old enough to know Cleopatra!" said Maurice. Realization dawned on Erik and he turned to his new acquaintance and said,

"I apologize, Mousier. Had I known she was your mother..."

"Ah forget it! You didn't know! And frankly, I'm glad you said it! I love my mother but she can be quite the overbearing witch sometimes. I constantly look for new ways to oppose her so I figured having a friend who gets her dander up shall be quite fun to watch!" said Maurice. Erik glanced to the ground,

"You shouldn't speak that way about you're mother M. Richard. You don't know how lucky you are to have one." Frowning at this depressing tone, Maurice said cheerfully,

"The old girl knows I never mean a word of what I say! Say listen, I get together with a few of my friends every Wednesday at my house to play poker and smoke cigars. Would you care to join us?" Erik looked up at him in disbelief,

"You...you really want to be my friend?"

"Certainly! I mean if the incomparable Toni Carone finds you a good time you must be alright. Besides you look as if you could stand some male companionship!" said Maurice with a chuckle.

"Certainly more than Andre and Firmin!" nodded Erik in agreement.

"Yes, where are those two old rakes anyway? Flirting with the chambermaids?" asked Maurice looking around the grounds.

"They're at home nursing hangovers. It was Firmin's wedding anniversary last night." Erik told him.

"Celebrating the beginning?" asked Maurice. Erik smirked devilishly,

"Toasting the end!" Maurice's loud laughter brought the attention of the ladies surrounding Antoinette again.

"Uh-oh. Toni you better get over there before your sweet, shy M. DuL'Soir makes friends with Paris' greatest womanizer Maurice Richard, and gets terribly influenced!" said Jezebel. Antoinette stood and took up her parasol,

"I should only hope!" As her friends gasped and giggled, Erik and Maurice stood at Antoinette's approach.

"Mlle. Carone! I was just telling M. DuL'Soir he's the most envied man at the party." said Maurice. Antoinette winked aside at Erik,

"Oh really, M. Richard?"

"Well, he did arrive with one of the most lovely of ladies!" said Maurice kissing the back of Antoinette's gloved hand. Erik found himself in a conflict. He liked Maurice Richard and hoped to be his friend, but he couldn't help feel a rush of jealousy and the panic of loss when Maurice flirted with Antoinette. But his fears subsided as Antoinette wrapped her hand around Erik's elbow and told Maurice,

"And he shall be the one to leave with her as well! If you will excuse us?" Maurice bowed and walked off,

"Certainly! Erik, see you at my house at eight on Wednesday!" Erik waved to him as Antoinette looked up at him slyly. He became confused at her expression and asked,

"What?"

"Did you just make friends with Maurice Richard?" she asked.

"Yes. Is that a problem?" he asked leading her down the path to walk the gardens.

"Not until his mother finds out. I remember what you said to her!" she said with a grin.

"Apparently that's why he sought me out. He wants a friend his mother disapproves of." said Erik with a furrowed brow. Antoinette faced him and said tucking some loose strands of hair from his black wig behind his ear,

"Well just be careful around him. Maurice Richard is a notorious skirt chaser with a crude sense of humor. And I fancy you just as you are, thank you!" Erik smiled,

"Yet why do I get the feeling you won't mind me picking up a few things from him like say...how to 'make sandwiches'?" She grinned at the old implication that had become a common code word between them. She stroked his lips with her finger and said,

"Well I don't mind you using his influence with just me. With someone else, is an entirely different affair!" Erik, feeling a little braver than usual, bent over to touch his lips with hers, when out from the bushes behind them, a dirty figure fell out and pushed, causing them to fall to the ground. They watched the unshaven, smelly, bearded, old vagabond with brown clothes stumble into the yard as Antoinette sighed in frustration,

"Why does something ALWAYS interrupt us when we are about to kiss?" Erik helped Antoinette up as the old man cried out in a haggard voice,

"JOSEPHINE! JOSEPHINE!" Everyone in attendance at the party grew silent and watched the old beggar stumble across the yard. Madame Richard in particular grew wide-eyed and slowly stood to her feet.

"JOSEPHINE!" called the stranger again.

"Roland!" whispered Madame Richard as pale as a ghost.

"Your husband?" asked Madame Jacquard. Pontiblu muttered to her,

"Isn't he dead?" Madame Richard broke into a run across the green grass shouting,

"NO! No, that's my husband! That's my Roland! Roland!"

"Father?" called Maurice falling in step behind his mother at recognition of the old man's voice.

"Josep..." he said cutting off mid-sentence as he collapsed to the ground. She reached her husband and gathered him into her arms shouting,

"ROLAND! ROLAND!" Erik and Antoinette were now running towards them, as Maurice gathered his mother up and allowed her to cry on his shoulder. Erik kneeled over the old man and turned him over to which Maurice said in shock,

"My god...it really is Father!" Antoinette looked between the two and definitely saw a family resemblance. A crowd had begun to gather around them in wonder, as Erik checked the man's pulse.

"His heartbeat is faint..." Erik told Antoinette who told one of the servants,

"Fetch a doctor!" But when Erik placed a hand to the man's chest to see how he was breathing, he felt something wet and sticky. He pulled back and looked at his hand. It was covered in fresh, red blood. As he checked and found a knife wound in the side, Madame Richard took one look at the blood and fainted in Maurice's arms. Some ladies gasped in horror as Antoinette yelled to the servants,

"Get him inside now!"

Two hours later, M. Michael Firmin stepped down from the carriage, raising a hand to shield his eyes that were burning in pain and causing his head to pound with every bright golden ray of sunshine. His partner, M. Giles Andre followed suit in the same manner before the butler that met them at the door rushed the gentlemen inside the home of Madame Jacquard. Much to the dismay of their hangovers, Erik yelled to them coming down the stairs in the grand foyer,

"Where have you two been? You should have been here an hour ago when I sent for you!"

"Please, Mousier. A little more softly!" groaned Andre shutting his eyes in pain. Firmin began to rub him temples,

"When you sent for us, we were still not dressed, for we had NO intentions of going out today! However, the important thing is we are here now. So what's the urgency?" asked Firmin following him back upstairs.

"Remember Madame Richard?" asked Erik. Firmin grabbed his arm and stopped him saying with desperation,

"Please, Erik. Say that aggravating woman is dead or else so help me God..." Erik released Firmin's surprisingly iron grip from his dark mustard coat sleeve and said,

"Not her...but her husband might soon shall be!" Firmin became sober for but an instant as he said in shock,

"What?" Andre asked, still clutching his head,

"Isn't he already dead?" Erik sighed and gestured them to follow him,

"Apparently not!" He led them down the second floor hallway, to a room on the east wing where Antoinette waited with Madame Leslie Jacquard, a tall, distinguished looking woman of strong, focused hazel eyes and salt and pepper hair outside a guest room door. The ladies stood from a group of chairs set out along the wall as Madame Jacquard said,

"M. Andre! M. Firmin! I am so glad you could come on such short notice! After your recent success in England I am more than confidant your expert opinions shall be put to good use in this matter!" Andre and Firmin glanced aside at Erik before saying,

"We'll do what we can!"

"_Lord in heaven, if that's not the truth!" _thought Antoinette. Just then the doctor came out with his black leather medical kit shaking his head.

"Well Doctor?" asked Erik. The old man sighed,

"He should have gotten help sooner. There's too much blood lost, and he has some internal bleeding. I'm afraid he'll be dead by morning." The men became solemn, Antoinette covered her open mouth with her hand and Madame Jacquard said looking to the marble floor,

"Poor Josephine! If losing him the first time didn't break her heart, losing him the second shall shatter it to pieces!"

"I gave him some morphine to ease his pain, but I'm afraid there is nothing left to do." said the Doctor.

"May we go in and have a word, Doctor?" asked Andre.

"Yes, but only for a moment. He is conscious but I believe he won't be for long." said the Doctor. Madame Jacquard took him by the arm and said,

"Come Sir. I'll have the cook fix you a plate in the kitchen. I think it'd be best if you wait."

"Certainly, Certainly!" said the Doctor as they started to take their leave. Erik grabbed him by the arm and asked,

"Doctor, when you examined him, did his injuries happen to explain what he has been up to recently?"

"Yes. Whoever stabbed him beat him to a pulp first. I also noticed some scarring around his wrists. As if his hands were bound and rubbed raw. And some welts on his back. Does that help you any Mousier?" But Erik never heard the Doctor. He was seeing a flashback of the gypsy camp before his eyes. Their laughter, their cruelty, their whips.

"Erik?" asked Antoinette snapping him out of it.

"Yes! Yes it helps a great deal Mousier!" said Erik to the Doctor as Madame Jacquard led him to the kitchens. Firmin straightened his spine and said,

"Come on then! Let's get this over with!" He led them all inside where they found Maurice Richard standing over his mother who sat beside the bed where the now identified M. Roland Richard lay weak and propped up by pillows, his hand holding on to Josephine's for deal life.

"Roland, please! Tell me, where did you go?" she asked with a weak voice and tearful eyes.

"Not until those detectives of yours arrive, Pet." he said.

"Then wait no more Mousier! I am Michael Firmin, my partner Giles Andre!" said Firmin stepping towards the bed. Josephine glared at them while Roland said barely turning his head to them,

"An honor sirs."

"M. Firmin your presence here is NOT welcome!" snapped Josephine.

"Mother..." started Maurice.

"I told you I saw Roland but you refused to believe me! You treated me like a crazy old fool! And then that...that so called assistant of yours insulted me right to my face! Now my husband lays TRULY dying when he just returned to me!" she yelled at him her tears flowing down.

"That's enough, Josephine! M. Firmin had every right to not believe you, for I didn't WANT to be found. As to his assistant insulting you...he'll have to deal with me!" said Roland giving Erik an amused look out of the corner of his eye.

"Mousier, we are listening now! Tell us, why did you fake your own death?" asked Andre. Without being told, Antoinette took a seat and began her shorthand with her pocket notebook while Roland sighed and looked to the ceiling,

"Where to begin? I'm sure you gentlemen recall the Commune?"

"How could we forget! There was such tension in the air we left Paris for Venice for two months until the Third Republic took over!" said Firmin. As the partners recalled what they heard in Venice; Erik, leaning over her shoulder, his hand on the chair for support, whispered to Antoinette,

"What are they talking about?"

"Don't tell me you heard nothing of the France-Prussian war that ended in '71?" whispered back Antoinette in disbelief.

"I was preoccupied with losing the theater and Christine that year! What happened?" asked Erik.

"Well, France declared war on the Prussians after a prince of theirs was nominated for the throne of Spain. France didn't want too much German influence in Europe you know. So we fought them for a year in the North, eventually losing with Prussia occupying Paris in a peaceful siege for a while. Well, the middle and lower classes were so outraged at the government refusing to take the defensive they formed an army and drove the government to Versailles. Meanwhile, the National Army elected a council to replace the government of Paris. I was in America as you know, but I had a reporter friend write me and keep me up to speed on the matter. The Commune ruled Paris for two months and in my opinion did some good. They lowered rent, abolished night work in the bakeries and the guillotine. They granted pensions, returned tools to craftsmen that had pawned them during the war and postponed debts and gave employees the right to run a business if the owner fled." Antoinette told him.

"If they did such good, why were they only in power two months?" asked Erik.

"The government reformed the French army and got permission from Germany to cross the borders to get into the city. The National Army didn't have a chance. That's when the Third Republic came into power. Erik stood straight and muttered,

"How very typical of the upper classes!" He returned to listen to the Senior M. Richard say,

"Gentlemen, gentlemen! As fascinating as your time in Venice was, I must ask you listen until I finish, please."

"Of course. Do go on Mousier!" said Andre.

"Well Mousiers, the Communards were a ragtag bunch who wasted time on elections to get things done. But they did accomplish one thing. They formed a small treasury committee." said Roland.

"You mean you...?" asked Firmin.

"Yes, I supported the cause of the National Guard." said Roland as Josephine gasped,

"Roland!" He continued,

"With three other individuals, I was told to find a way to fund the new government. For the Commune didn't want to touch the bank of Paris for fear of alienating foreign countries that had accounts there. I don't need to tell you Gentlemen this act led to the Bank funding the French army, but I can tell you my colleges and I found a way to collect the needed capital." His breath became short then, and Maurice told him,

"Father, you need to rest. You can finish your story later."

"But there might not be a later!" groaned Josephine.

"No, no. Maurice is right Pet. Mousiers, forgive me. But...but I need to not talk for a while." said Roland his voice barely above a whisper. Firmin nodded,

"We understand Mousier. We'll wait in the hall until you're ready." He led the group out, but Erik looked back to the family before him. He could see the love they held in their eyes for each other. Josephine whispered to Roland,

"Why did you leave me?"

"You know after the war anyone associated with the Commune was guilty of treason. I didn't want that dark shadow on you two. I'm going to shut my eyes now, but don't fear. I am only gathering strength...I never stopped loving you Josephine." said Roland. Josephine trembled,

"I love you too!" Erik shut the door behind him and sighed. He never had that experience of a father and mother who cared for him and each other. Why did he get the life of pain given to him?

The group waited in the chairs in the hallway, later to be rejoined by Madame Jacquard. An hour pasted, then two, then another two. They watched the sunlight cast a warm glow through the hall's gothic windows until a rosy shade of pink and purple filled the space. The butler came through to light the candles, to which Madame Jacquard thanked him. It wasn't until the Grandfather clock on the other end announced half past the first hour after midnight when Maurice Richard came out of the guestroom, his eyes red, and his red locks limp. Firmin nudged a dozing Andre who took the newspaper off his face, and Erik woke Antoinette who was using his shoulder for a pillow. They all stood and waited for him to speak. When he did, their faces fell.

"Father is dead." When a moment of silence came, Erik stepped forward and asked,

"Maurice, if there is anything I can do..." With determination in his usually joking eyes, Maurice looked up and said.

"There is. Find those responsible for my Father's murder!"


	2. Chapter 2

**_A/N: Angel of Mystery, you rock! Help me spread the word about my series and I'll keep the stories coming! This chapter is dedicated to you, babe._**

**_And everyone else, please Read and Review. Especially tell me how you like the romance btw Erik and Antoinette._**

**_Peace, love and lipgloss, _**

**_Mlle. Fox_**

"Maurice, are you sure it's murder?" asked Madame Jacquard wringing her hands. He looked at her,

"You saw his wounds, it had to be!"

"Now Mousier, calm down!" Andre told him.

"Forgive me Mousier, but I can't; my father is dead! Money is no object! Please sirs, take my case! My mother is in there ready to be buried with him!" Maurice said his voice rising. Madame Jacquard picked up her skirts and said,

"If that is the case I shall just go check on her!" When she entered the bedroom, they heard wails of a broken woman from inside.

"Did you hear that Mousier? That was my mother! Find who caused my Father's second untimely death and I will pay you all most handsomely." Maurice told them passionately.

"Mousier..." started Firmin.

"We'll take the case." Erik said. Firmin gaped his mouth open at him,

"We will what?"

"After all Mousier it is the least we can do to make up for not believing Madame Richard the first time!" said Erik telling them with his eyes they were going to do this. Andre sighed,

"Right then! Mousier, did your father say anything else after we left?" Maurice thought and said,

"He and mother just spoke of the cottage in Province they never got to retire in. It's been shut up for years."

"Well that's a real start!" said Antoinette sarcastically as she folded her arms.

"Mousiers, I suggest we take our leave and get some sleep at home. Maurice, come to our office in the morning. Around ten or so?" said Erik.

"Ten's fine. I need to be in town anyway...preparing the funeral...again! You know it's funny Erik...the way you talk and give command it's like you are the detective and they are your assistants! Well, I'll see you all in the morning." said Maurice prepared to return into the room. Antoinette touched his arm,

"Our condolences Mousier." He nodded sadly with a weak smile and opened the door, his mother's crying still audible.

Later, the ride home was anything but peaceful for the Andre and Firmin Detective Agency. As Erik laid his head back, his boots propped up in the seat across from him, Andre huffed,

"Assistants indeed! Erik, not to drudge up old memories, but I can't help feeling you've forgotten we are no longer in the Opera Populaire!" Erik sighed with exhaustion,

"Old habits are hard to break, I suppose!" Her mind wide-awake with questions, Antoinette asked,

"Who would want M. Richard dead?"

"Whoever caused him to go into hiding the first time I suppose." said Firmin.

"I don't think he deliberately went into hiding." said Erik shutting his eyes. "The doctor said his wrists were rubbed raw as if they had been bound. What if Roland Richard was captured by someone and tortured?"

"What makes you think that? Besides the wrist thing I mean?" asked Andre.

"His back was also covered in welts. The Doctor thinks he had been beaten and frankly I know he was." said Erik.

"How do you know?" asked Antoinette. Erik opened his eyes, but they remained unseeing as he answered,

"When one is daily tortured for a while, one takes on a look of total caution in their eyes. Anyone who touches them instantly causes the back to straighten as if preparing for an attack. Roland reacted this way when Madame Richard was holding his hand." The carriage grew silent again, but Antoinette was thinking back to that night five weeks previous, when Erik was shot and she had seen his face. She had gone into his room to return his fallen mask and when she came near him, his back had stiffened and his eyes were cautious. After she had briefly kissed him that night, his reaction to her touch was starting to lessen to one purely enjoying the experience. But he still had a hint of that cautious look in his green orbs and when he was in one of his moods, his back would stiffen up. Antoinette prayed for guidance, promising she would do whatever she could to make that reaction nonexistent in this man she had grown to care for deeply.

That night, Erik stood by his window, overlooking the city, it's rooftops barely visible in the midnight blue hue all around. He opened the window and saw a two-foot ledge under the still. He climbed up on it and walked about on the concrete outside. He felt a wave of comfort filling him. He felt like he was back in the theater catwalks again. High above the ground, protected in the shadows. This was where he was the Phantom; that dark, powerful god-like figure who ruled over his own little kingdom daring anyone to try and take it away. He wished he could get some of that power back. He started to wonder how difficult it would be to climb over the rooftops, when he heard a rusty creak of a hinge. He took a step into the shadows even further and watched as he saw Antoinette open her window, sitting on the window seat but not daring to get close to the concrete edge he stood on. He heard her speaking,

"Bon Soir Papa! Well, I guess its Bon Jour now! Listen, I need to speak with you. You remember Erik? The man I told you about? Well, I'm worried about him." Erik furrowed his brow as she continued.

"I know his past, and I've accepted it knowing he's changed. But why can't he move on? He holds up all this pain inside that I wish he would talk to me about. But then I've only known him a little over a month...But you've always told me it only takes a moment to know when you've found the one. I knew it the moment he told me he didn't know how to shave himself. Help me Papa! Help us find a way! Love you always. Goodnight!" As she shut the window, unknowing of Erik's presence, he thought to himself,

'_The one? What did she mean when she said, 'The one'? The one what? And what does it have to do with my not knowing how to shave? Women! I can't wait until I understand them!'_ And with that, he turned back into his room and settled down for a few hours sleep.

The next morning, Andre tipped his hat in greeting a few accountant secretaries from down the hall, as Firmin fumbled with his keys to unlock the door.

"I can't wait to get started on this next case, gentlemen. You know I love a good mystery!" said Antoinette smoothing the wrinkles out of her royal purple polonaise. But Firmin's face took on a look of concern, when he noticed the door was open a crack. He silently brought it to the attention to the others. As Erik pulled Antoinette behind him, Firmin gently pushed the door open. They crept inside the office, noting nothing seemed amiss, but Andre raised his cane higher anyway. They heard footsteps from the inner office and Erik nodded to Firmin who counted off his fingers quietly,

"One...two...three!" On three, Erik kicked open the door and they all rushed inside. Maurice Richard jumped from the chair he just sat down in and yelled,

"What the devil?" Firmin sighed in frustration as Andre demanded,

"Mousier! What is the meaning of this? We had an appointment!" Nervously, Maurice stuttered out,

"I'm sorry Mousiers! But I had to come early! I was being followed!"

"Followed?" asked Erik. Maurice guided them to the window saying,

"Yes. When I left the house this morning, I noticed a carriage kept behind mine. When I got out, a short, thin fellow in a cap and dark suit began to follow me. At first I though it was my imagination, but everywhere I went he was two steps behind me. Now he's down on the street...there! Leaning against that lamppost!" Erik followed his pointed finger and saw indeed a short, thin fellow in cap and dark suit leaning against the wrought iron post, his hands in his pockets, his eye watching the building as if it would grow legs and walk away.

"Now THAT'S a proper start to a mystery!" said Antoinette with a little smile dancing on her lips. Erik turned from the window and stroked his chin with his thumb,

"Hmm...He doesn't appear wealthy enough to have his own carriage..."

"And I'll bet anything he works for the killer or might even be the killer himself!" exclaimed Firmin.

"Don't jump to conclusions, Firmin...after all we still need to find out where the late M. Richard was before he appeared in Madame Jacquards gardens!" pointed out Andre.

"Oh yes of course!" said Firmin.

"So we should do a through check on every building from Madame Jacquards house! Lord, what an endeavor!" cried Antoinette.

"And we need to find out where he lived for the last four years." said Firmin.

"And how he earned money for food..." said Andre.

"And most important of all, how he and that secret treasury committee got the funds for the Commune. For I believe that and all who were involved are the keys to solving this case!" said Erik staring at the floor in thought as he leaned on one of the desks.

"Well, that should be a piece of cake!" said Antoinette sarcastically. "If Roland Richard kept his affiliation with the Commune a secret he must have had a reason and so did the others on that committee!" Andre scratched his neck and said to Firmin,

"Firmin? Don't you have a cousin or something who works for the government?"

"Yes! My third cousin Jacque! He works as an assistant to one of the representatives. Mlle. Carone! Set up a meeting with him! I believe his card is in my Rolla deck!" said Firmin.

"Under 'F', I presume?" she asked starting to go through the Rolla deck as he nodded yes to her.

"If anyone can tell us something about the Commune, it should be the government who ended it!" said Andre as if it were obvious.

"I have a question, if my father and his 'comrades' got the money, where did it go? Obviously not to build an army!" said Maurice folding his arms. Erik smiled at him,

"And then in lies the mystery!" Antoinette furrowed her eyebrows in thought,

"You don't suppose any of his colleges in the committee took it?"

"No, I don't. What I do think is that Maurice's father took it." said Erik.

"What?" asked Maurice.

"It would explain why someone should want to kill him. Someone on that committee probably wanted the money for themselves." said Erik.

"But another reason could be Roland was going to make a deal with the government and turn in his friends. Fear of getting caught for treason makes men do wicked deeds!" said Firmin.

"Well, it sounds as if you are off to a good start." said Maurice.

"Actually we'd be off to a better one if you could answer a few questions." said Erik.

"Go ahead, Friend! I'm all ears!"

"What all can you tell us before your father's 'first' death?" asked Erik.

"Mam'selle!" started Andre. She sat with her notepad, smiling,

"I know Mousier, start my shorthand!" Maurice sat down and sighed,

"It was the winter of seventy-one. We were all set to get ready for Christmas. Father had gone into town to go gift shopping for his friends. I remember he was particularly generous that year. He was buying very extravagant gifts. Well anyway, that morning was the last we saw him. A police sergeant, a friend of father's came by that evening and told us he had died. The coroner told us it was natural causes. You know, at the time, Mother and I had to come down and identify the body. What was strange was the body we thought had been Father, well, something was off about it. But I only figured it was because I was in grief. Even the priest who gave him his last rites told me I was just distressed. Wait! He was the one who thought it best to have a closed casket! I remember! I went along with it, because seeing Father dead once had caused her to be ill. We buried him, and I took over his practice in the next few weeks. Then we heard nothing more of it, until last fall, when Mother was shopping near Notre Dame. She told me the bells began to ring and she had turned to look at them when she saw a man staring at her from the other side of the street. She swore it was Father! I told her it was a mistake but she insisted. A few months later she heard of your agency and started calling on you. I believe you know the rest."

"Yes, we do. But M. Richard, think carefully. Has nothing else out of the ordinary occurred since your father's fake death?" asked Firmin.

"Not a thing. Any idea what is going on?" asked Maurice. Andre began to show him out,

"Nothing right now, but we shall keep you posted."

"Very well, I must go meet the undertaker now. Erik? You understand my poker game has been postponed?" said Maurice.

"Of course. Just tell me when you're ready to have it!" said Erik.

"Certainly. Well, Good day Mousiers and thank you!" said Maurice putting on his hat. He nodded to Antoinette on the way out,

"Mam'selle!"

"Mousier!" When the door shut behind him, Antoinette asked Firmin and Andre,

"Well what do you think?"

"I haven't the foggiest." said Firmin.

"What do you think, Erik?...Erik?" said Andre looking around the room seeing the tall man had vanished.

"He's at it again!" said Firmin.

"At what again?" asked Antoinette.

"All that Phantom business!" snapped Andre noticing the open window.

Meanwhile, Erik was running across the rooftops, unseen by the crowds below, Maurice Richard or the shady character following him. He watched as Maurice went into a funeral parlor. He sat on the edge of the building by the gargoyles watching the figure leaf through the newspaper. When Maurice came out an hour later, he hailed a hansom and went off, but the figure stayed behind. He then threw his paper to the ground and walked down the street to the East End of Paris. Erik kept up with him, slipping only once on a broken roof tile, but he regained his balance and soon found the man on the outskirts of the slaughterhouses. The short man went inside a rich black carriage. Erik saw the driver was going off to an alleyway for a moment and a dark smirk came on his lips. A few seconds later, dressed in the now unconscious driver's cape and cap, Erik went towards the carriage where he heard a distinguish but foreign accent tell him from inside,

"Drive on Pierre!" Erik coughed out disguising his voice,

"Oui Mousier!" He climbed up on the driver's seat and took the reins beginning to lead the team away down the street. He heard from inside,

"Well?" A slick, snake like voice said,

"Sorry Colonel. But the boy was just preparing for his old man's funeral."

"Blast! If I had killed the old fool four years ago this would be over and done with now!" snapped the Colonel.

"I did find one interesting thing sir..."

"Oh?"

"The young M. Richard stopped by the offices of two well-known private detectives named Firmin and Andre."

"He did? Hmm...perhaps our young friend wishes to find his father's secret as well!" contemplated the Colonel.

"Or the chap who killed his old man." said the snake voice.

"I only hired you this Morning sir. How do you know the killer...is not me?" laughed the Colonel darkly.

"Say, aren't we suppose to be going back to St. Paul Street?" asked the other man.

"Yes, Pierre! Stop the carriage!" The carriage did pull to a stop, but when a tall, handsome man with graying brown locks and neat military beard poked his head out the window, he saw the driver gone. As his eyes gave the surrounding area a shrewd look over, revealing a darkness in his soul, he said to the short man,

"Get out and drive the coach. Now!" The short man stumbled out and took up the reins, and high above them on the rooftop of a great stone bank, Erik watched them drive away, the purloined cape billowing in the wind.


	3. Chapter 3

**_A/N: To Charity; I'm glad you liked Chapter One. And don't worry, chapter four will have just enough fluff to satisfy. Does that mean you like the romance? Somebody tell me! And for all you Erik fans out there, don't be upset b/c he's not in this chapter until the end, but I wanted to establish that the others in the Andre and Firmin detective agency are sleuths too. Enjoy!_**

**_peace, love and lipgloss, _**

**_Mlle.Fox_**

Downtown Paris was a polished gem of the city. Giles Andre stepped out of his hired hansom and paid the driver. Then he looked up to the building before him and went inside. The police station was full of men in black uniforms, and shining silver buttons; vagabonds being dragged along in handcuffs and Ladies of the Night applied rouge as they attempted to flirt with the officers. Andre dodged one streetwalker's advances and was shown into the office of one Sergeant Philippe Letrec. The tall, fat officer was reading over a case file when he looked up to Andre.

"Ah M. Andre, right? Good to see you again!" As the Sergeant put his folder aside on his desk, Andre shook hands with him,

"Thank you...Do you have a moment?"

"Of course! Please sit!" said Letrec gesturing to an empty chair. "What can I do for you today?" Andre sat,

"You have heard Roland Richard turned up alive only to drop dead again?" Letrec's face dropped,

"Yes. Nasty business that. I could have sworn he was dead all those years ago."

"Yet you neglected to tell us that the late M. Richard was a friend of yours." said Andre eyeing him.

"Didn't I? I could have sworn I mentioned it." Letrec said.

"What fascinates me the most about this case, is that three different men and the man's own family saw the body the first time and he appeared to be dead. But then it turned out he was alive this whole time." said Andre.

"Perhaps he is like Lazarus, raised from the dead." said the policeman.

"Or perhaps someone helped him fake his own death." suggested Andre. Letrec's face darkened,

"What are you implying Mousier?"

"Not a thing. But my partner and I are acting on behalf of the man's son and widow. We won't stop until we find the truth." said Andre with determination.

"What do you wish to know?" asked Letrec.

"Where were you the night before last?" asked Andre.

"I was here doing paperwork."

"Can anyone vouch for you?"

"I suppose not. Seeing as to how it grew late and everyone was gone by the time I left. I went straight home to bed." Letrec told him.

"I see...Sir? Do you remember the Paris Commune?" asked Andre.

"What of it?"

"Well, where were you when all that took place?" asked Andre.

"While the Commune was in power you mean? I fled the city to Versailles along with the rest. Why?" Letrec asked suspiciously.

"Did you ever hear about the Commune having a secret treasury committee? A committee that managed to raise funds for the Communards cause?" asked Andre.

"No, can't say I did." answered Letrec.

"And what about Roland Richard? Did he ever talk about the Commune with you?" asked Andre.

"No, can't say he did. Why?" asked the Sergeant.

"What would you say if I told you Richard supported the Commune?" said Andre waiting for his answer. The officer replied,

"You found that out? Can hardly believe it. Roland never struck me as the traitor type."

"When was the last time you saw him?" asked Andre.

"Alive you mean? Well, I'd say nine months prior to his death. We were too busy busting down on protests at the time for us to see each other after that. Anything else?" asked Letrec. Andre smiled and stood extended his hand,

"No, I think that clears up a few things. Thank you for your time!" Sergeant Letrec smiled,

"No trouble! No trouble at all!" Andre doffed his hat and walked out of the police station, not seeing a tall, stocky fellow in dark clothing following behind him.

Meanwhile, Antoinette waited patiently in the pew box, looking around the gothic church, admiring the beauty of the stained glass windows. Finally, a priest came out of a confessional, his bible in his ancient hands.

"Father Tomas?" she asked standing.

"Yes? Yes, my dear do you have something to confess?" he asked. She rolled her eyes and laughed,

"Ever since I met someone, yes I have! But that is not the point of my visit today. Father, I was told by the Widow Richard that you gave the last rites to her husband, Roland Richard, about four years ago?"

"Ah, yes! Yes. I remember she and her son were most distressed when they lost him." he said.

"Yet, what if I were to tell you Roland Richard had been alive all this time...and then was murdered just yesterday?" she asked waiting for his reaction. He gasped,

"My dear no! You can't be serious! Are you sure it was him?"

"Positive. His son and wife recognized him." she told him. The priest grew pale and then wavered on his feet.

"It can't be true! It can't!" he whispered to himself. She sat the old man in the back pew saying,

"Father, calm yourself! You act as if the Christ proclaimed he wasn't coming back!"

"Did...did he say anything...anything about what he's been doing for the past few years?" asked Father Tomas. She told him watching him with suspicion,

"No...no, he died before he could. All he could tell us he had supported the Commune." He dabbed his forehead with his handkerchief,

"I'm not surprised someone stabbed him if he helped raised money for the cause." She stared him down,

"Father...I never said he was stabbed...nor did I say what he did for the Commune. Father Tomas...were you a part of the secret committee the Commune used to raise money for?" The man of God looked her straight in the eye and told her,

"No. If you will excuse me my child, I must prepare for tonight's mass." He stood and left a stunned Antoinette still sitting in the pew, not believing a priest had just lied to her.

On the other side of the city, Firmin was pacing out in the halls of the university in the medical wing. He huffed and puffed in aggravation and checked his pocket watch for the sixth time that morning, when he heard his partner's voice call to him. Firmin turned to see Andre walking briskly down the wood paneled halls towards him. Andre said,

"So sorry I'm late! I couldn't hail a hansom for the life of me!"

"You were suppose to meet me here twenty minutes ago so we could speak with Dr. Christi before his lecture began! Now, we have to wait until it's over! Come on!" Firmin snapped at him before beginning to make for the door.

"I said I was sorry! What are you so snippy about?" asked Andre.

"I'm aggravated with my cousin! He sent word he couldn't set up a meeting with his representative until next week! And we haven't seen Erik all day. Knowing him he's probably solved the case already! And then there's the fact I know you get ill with the topic of Dr. Christi's lecture, so that will annoy me to no end!" explained Firmin before opening the door. As they crept inside quietly, standing in the back of a huge auditorium with about a hundred students looking at the teacher below, Andre asked,

"What topic?" Then he looked down and gulped back the bile in his throat upon seeing the cadaver body on the slab, cut open so Dr. Christi could explain to his students about the procedures of a proper autopsy. As Andre shut his eyes and clutched his stomach, Firmin muttered,

"That topic!"

They waited patiently in the back of the lecture hall, listening to the Doctor talk about death and how to detect it; the sound of papers rustling and pencils scribbling. Finally, Doctor Christi yelled out,

"Alright! Class dismissed!" Dodging the crowd of eager young med students on the way out, Firmin came down the stairs and called out catching the Doctor's attention,

"Mousier Doctor! If you have a moment?" Taking off his rubber gloves covered in blood, the thin man in spectacles said,

"Ah, M. Firmin! I rather thought you had abandoned me!" Declining his outstretched hand, Firmin said,

"No, I was waiting on my partner, M. Andre who..." When he saw Andre still at the top of the lecture hall not coming down, he sighed and continued,

"...Who I am CONSTANTLY waiting on!" Dr. Christi chuckled,

"A little squeamish eh?" Firmin turned up his nose at the decaying corpse on the slab,

"With good reason! Now Doctor, If I may just ask you a few questions."

"I'm at your disposal Mousier." said Dr. Christi as he began to cover up the cadaver with a stained white sheet.

"Four years ago, you examined the body of the late M. Roland Richard, correct?" Dr. Christi nodded,

"Ah yes! Massive coronary of the heart with fatal blockage of the arteries. I remember it well. A word of advice Mousier, exercise and eat plenty of vegetables and you will never have to worry about a failed heart!"

"Neither did Roland Richard until yesterday morning." said Firmin.

"I beg your pardon?"

"Early yesterday, Roland Richard died of a fatal stab wound to the chest and internal bleeding. He was murdered. What do you think of that?" Firmin asked of him.

"That's impossible! I examined him myself! He was as dead as Marie Antoinette!" protested Christi.

"And yet his wife and son and close family relation identified him as Roland Richard. How do you explain that?" Firmin questioned. Christi leaned against the slab and sighed,

"I never met the man before, so perhaps the body they brought in was not Roland Richard."

"Possible...yet when the family came to identify the body, they said the body at the time was Richard. Now...we already established he faked his own death. What we are trying to find out is if someone helped him do it." Firmin said.

"What does that have to do with me?" asked Dr. Christi.

"Well you examined the body. You signed the death certificate. Perhaps you...helped..." he suggested. Dr. Christi folded his arms and glared at Firmin,

"Now why would I do that?"

"Where were you during the Paris Commune, Mousier Doctor?" asked Firmin. Dr. Christi stared blankly at Firmin a moment before taking the sheet off the dead body again and saying,

"You know how this fellow died Mousier?"

"Not a clue." said Firmin turning green a second.

"He stuck his nose in someone else's affair. And he got shot. Yes, we can all learn a lesson from him. Now if you will excuse me sir, I must go grade some thesis papers. It was wonderful speaking with you again. Au revoir!" said Dr. Christi smiling and leaving the lecture hall. Andre saw Firmin twirl his cane about in his fingers as he came casually up the stairs. Andre said,

"It would seem the good Doctor is hiding something."

"So it does!" said Firmin doffing his beaver fur top hat and leading the way out. They decided to walk home, figuring they could think on the way. Firmin thought of the defensive doctor while Andre's mind lingered on the suspicious sergeant. Soon, they reached the driveway and saw Antoinette heading for the door as well. Firmin called out, stopping her,

"I take it you needed to think on the way home as well, Mam'selle?" She turned and said drawing out a long breath,

"Let's just say after meeting with Father Tomas, I'm considering becoming a protestant!"

"Well, at least you'll be able to divorce!" said Andre fishing out his set of keys as they neared the door.

"I'm completely baffled!" said Antoinette.

"Join the club. But we can go over all we learned over supper. Right now, I just want silence!" said Firmin as Andre turned the handle. But as they walked in, they were greeted with violent, passionate music, specifically, the banging of a piano. Jean Claude took their hats and gloves and told them,

"Welcome home sirs, Mam'selle. Mousier Erik requested that you all meet him in the parlor as soon as you came in." Andre led the way saying,

"Well, it's about time!" They found Erik with his eyes closed, becoming lost in the score, his hands gliding over the keys as if they were covered with silk.

"Erik! Erik!" yelled Firmin tapping Erik's shoulder to snap him out of the spell. Erik blinked and looked up at them and said,

"What have you found out?"

"Can't we rest a bit? It's been a trying day!" said Andre.

"Yes, why can't we wait until supper to discuss the case?" asked Antoinette sitting beside him on the bench. He stood and looked out the window saying,

"Because just as I suspected, you've all been followed."


	4. Chapter 4

**_A/N: Charity and Angel of Mystery, you guys are awesome for being such loyal readers! And Child of the Dark Wood, thanks for the rose...and the review. And you certainly know how to make an exit..._**

**_Anywho, Chapter Four is short but there will be Erik and Antoinette fluff followed by a converstation about God. I like myself and my characters to believe in a higher power so it you don't care for it, too bad. Skip to Chapter five if you're that aganist the Big Guy, but you'll miss some very important character development and fluff! _**

**_Again, Chapter four is short, but I will make up for it in chapter five. Enjoy!_**

**_peace, love and lipgloss, _**

**_Mlle. Fox_**

Later at dinner, Jean Claude mused to himself that he had never seen so many dark expressions. He took up Firmin's half eaten piece of crumb cake as he puffed on his cigar with exasperation,

"I can't believe we are being followed! It's an outrage!"

"Obviously this Colonel fellow Erik told us about sent them. I wonder what they're after?" asked Andre using his cigar cutter to nip off the end of his Havana.

"Well Mousier, it should be fairly obvious. They want that Commune money! But what connection does this mysterious Colonel have to the treasury committee?" asked Antoinette stabbing her cake with her fork absentmindedly. Erik waved away the cloud of smoke the partners were trying to create and coughed,

"That is what we must find out. If you will excuse me gentlemen!" He stood, dropping his napkin on the table as Andre asked him,

"Erik, wouldn't you like to join us for a cigar?" Erik turned up his nose and said with disfavor lacing his voice,

"No thank you. Smoke is bad for the vocal chords." As he walked out of the dining room, Firmin exclaimed before coughing a bit,

"Poppycock!" Antoinette excused herself and told Jean Claude to bring some coffee to the parlor. She entered the room seeing Erik once again sitting at the piano, but his finger was only hitting a few keys sporatically. His whole posture was casual with his legs crossed and his back slumped over the keyboard, but Antoinette knew by the stroking of his chin with his thumb he was a world away. She smiled and shook her head going to sit on the settee,

"Between playing music and stroking your chin cleft, it's a wonder you ever partake in civil conversation!"

"Hmm?" he asked still focused on the b flat key before him.

"It's clear you have a few ideas about the case. Care to share them with me?" she asked taking up her embroidery.

"Hmm?" In response to his lack of hearing her, she said sarcastically leaning forward on her knees,

"Care to join me upstairs and take each others clothes off?"

"Hmm...what?" Erik asked finally looking at her. She smiled slyly,

"Well that got your attention!" As he blushed a quick shade of red he said,

"Toni, you know I'm not THAT distracted!" She returned to her stitch work,

"Well, it was worth a shot!" He stood and stared out the window asking her,

"Where on earth did a proper Christian girl like you learn about such things?" She smiled,

"Read the Bible sometime Mousier. You'll find it's quite racy. Especially the book 'Song of Songs'. The innuendo in there is enough to make a nun go to confession!" He turned his head aside to her with a wry smirk on his lips,

"Really?"

"Oh yes, but the Bible certainly isn't smut. It's full of beautiful poetry and imagery of the Lord. People look all over for the Creator not knowing they can easily find him in His Word." she said with a peaceful smile. He looked to the floor, his countenance darkening,

"You speak about your faith with such passion."

"Well, our God is a passionate God. Take Song of Songs for example. Only our one true God could create the kind of love described between a man and a woman. I know I tease and flirt about the whole idea, but the truth is...I know making love is one of the most holy things we can do on this Earth...if done with the right person." she told him. He turned from the window, his eyes still to the floor,

"I haven't had much use for God in my life. The gypsies certainly didn't go to Sunday services, and I use to scoff at the idea of the Savior I heard about in so many operas and symphonies." As he sat on the piano bench facing her, she asked,

"And now?" He shrugged,

"After the fire, I began to think a lot about God. I cursed him for torturing me and blessing others. I started to do it on a daily basis. But somewhere along the way, our conversations turned more civil. I guess I began to listen to him, for somewhere, deep in my soul a voice whispered to me that there is a reason I was born with my face and my talents, a reason why Christine left me, and stranger still, a reason I was spared from punishment. It even spared me from thinking of taking my own life. I suppose the only thing I needed to replace the loneliness wasn't a beautiful young chorus girl or a whole opera company I could intimidate, but relationship with a Jewish carpenter born almost two-thousand years ago." She stood and walked over to him. She placed a hand on his shoulder and said with a dry smile,

"Don't you hate it when He proves to be right?"

"It's almost as maddening as you!" he said smugly. She said with mock indignation,

"I am not maddening!"

"Care to make a wager on that?" he remarked looking up at her.

"I'll have you know a lot of people find me engaging!"

"That's enraging, Darling!" joked Erik as Antoinette lightly slapped his shoulder. She laughed,

"Well, I certainly am grateful the Father brought you into my life! Things certainly are a lot more interesting!" He looked up at her with disbelief,

"You...you're THANKFUL I'm around?" She softened,

"Of course...Who else would I flirt with? Andre and Firmin?" Then her gaze became locked with his intense stare full of desire. He took her hand from her shoulder and kissed the back. When he saw her shiver with delight, he kissed her palm and then her wrist, finally standing and bringing her close. He said with a deep growl in his throat as they stood nose to nose,

"And I'm for one am grateful He made you!" Just as he was about to lean in to capture her lips, the maid came in and said cheerfully in her native Cockney,

"Here you are Mam'selle and Mousier! Fresh coffee hot off the stove!" They separated and stood there looking like naughty school children as Antoinette told the maid while trying to catch her breath,

"Thank you Janet!" Janet gave a quick curtsy and left the tray, too busy to notice they were staring at each other as if they would disappear. She gulped as he came closer again, but just as his arms wrapped around her waist, hers around his neck, Firmin called in from the other room,

"Mlle. Carone?" She jumped and said still in Erik's embrace,

"Oui, Mousier?"

"Where's the evening paper?"

"In the study next to your armchair!" she called out. She smiled devilishly up at Erik and leaned up to meet his incoming lips, when they heard,

"Have you seen my reading..."

"Your spectacles are on your desk!" Antoinette called out as Erik shut his eyes and sighed with frustration.

"Thank you!" called Firmin. She looked up apologetically at Erik who said,

"I finally find a woman who wants to kiss me and I can't find a moment alone with her!" She slipped out of his arms and stroked his face.

"Maybe it's for the best." She was about to return to her embroidery, when Erik grabbed her by the wrist and swung her around to crash into his chest, his lips taking hold of hers. She shut her eyes and enjoyed the experience of his warm, strong kiss. He pulled back a stunned Antoinette and said with a dry half smirk,

"I've waited a lifetime to kiss a woman. I can wait another to have her in my bed but I simply could not wait to kiss her." She nodded and whispered,

"Understandable!" He turned her back around and guided her to her seat, while he took his place at the piano and began to play a delightful aria. He began to tell her,

"I have a few theories about the case if you're interested."

"Hmm?" she asked staring blankly ahead of her as she absentmindedly took her needle and began to stitch.

"I'll bet you anything Sgt. Letrec, Father Tomas and Dr. Christi made up the rest of that secret treasury committee. Sgt. Letrec fears his position will be in jeopardy, Father Tomas obviously feels guilt and fear of being thrown out of the church; and Christi has the most to lose if he should face the firing squad. He'll lose his license, his position as medical examiner and his teaching position. They won't talk to us so easily now, but we can get information about them from Firmin's cousin. As to our mysterious Colonel, I overheard where he lives. Unfortunately, I only know the street. It's the rich part of town with the most crooked residents." Erik told her.

"Well, tomorrow while Andre and Firmin check around Madame Jacquards house to see if Richard lived nearby, you and I can go to this street and find the Colonel." Antoinette told him. Erik tuned to her and asked,

"How can we do that? I checked that whole street from above the city and I couldn't find him." She shook her head and smiled as she cut the thread and made a knot,

"My dear M. DuL'Soir. You may be an excellent Phantom, but there is another way to spy on people without being seen!"

"How?"

"Why, charm of course! There, it's finally done!" Antoinette exclaimed holding up her embroidery hoop. However, half of her skirts came up with her. Erik laughed out loud at her attempts to free herself and asked,

"Haven't you ever embroidered before?" She pouted,

"Well, I'm not really good at it to begin with...and I got distracted!"


	5. Chapter 5

**_A/N: Angel of Mystery, Charity, Child of the Dark Woods, ya'll got to help me out. I need more reviewers! Spread the word about my series! I'll give you an Erik cookie...(a cookie in the shape of a white mask) _**

**_Meanwhile, here's an idea that popped into my head tonight as I was finishing Chapter Five. How about a crossover with Sherlock Holmes? My series is only about six years off the Doyle canon, and I could make it a case Holmes worked on before he ever met Watson. Whatca think? Review and tell me._**

**_Back to the story, I hope you like Chapter Five. Pieces will be put together, villians come out of the woodwork, minor fluff is to be had and you'll never guess who makes a quest appearance! (So don't cheat and scroll down to the bottom of the page and see) Enjoy the show!_**

**_peace, love and lipgloss, _**

**_Mlle. Fox_**

The next day, Firmin and Andre walked into a seedy looking pub where smoke was a decoration and dirt a welcome mat. The working man and average drunk looked up at their entrance obviously curious, but they soon returned to their ale and mumbled conversations. Firmin approached the bar, Andre close on his heels. The large barkeep with meat hooks for hands leaned on the bar and asked bluntly,

"Can I get you anything gentlemen?"

"Got anything cold? We've been walking all day!" asked Andre wiping his brow.

"Sorry Mousier. Everything is as warm as a dead body around here!" said the bartender.

"Speaking of which!" muttered Firmin.

"Well, sir. Perhaps you can help us. We saw a sign outside that said you had rooms for rent?" asked Andre ignoring his partner's comment.

"You require a room?" he asked.

"No, but we are looking for the room a friend of ours did occupy. Does the name Roland Richard ring a belle?" asked Firmin.

"No Mousier. Only Roland I know's of is this one pauper who the Widow Coudre use to let sleep in her barn." said the bartender. Firmin gave Andre a pointed look and Andre asked,

"Mousier please. This is the fifth establishment we've visited today. Did this Roland have gray hair with a touch of red to it, brown eyes, a Roman nose, and wore a brown suit?"

"Aye, that's him. Why do you ask? Are you police or something? Has he done anything?" asked the barkeep.

"Not for a few days!" joked Andre.

"Can you tell us where we might find the Widow Coudre?" asked Firmin.

"She should be home. Her cottage is right up the road. Big blue door. Can't miss it!" said the barkeep taking up a glass and beginning to polish it with a stained cloth.

"Merci Mousier!" said Firmin giving his a gold piece. As the barkeep took it up and bit it to test if it was real, Andre led Firmin out saying,

"Finally! Perhaps this Widow can tell us about Richard!"

"One can only hope. And I hope this means we can go home soon! My feet are killing me!" said Firmin.

"Well, I told you to wear old shoes today." said Andre.

"I am wearing old shoes!" protested Firmin.

"No you're not. I know those are the new shoes you bought last week." argues Andre as they stepped outside.

"No, my new shoes are brown, not black!" said Firmin as they began to walk down the street.

"Oh really? How long have you had those?" asked Andre.

"About a year! But I don't wear them much." said Firmin.

"That's why your feet ache then. They're like new!" Andre told him.

"I've worn them enough to break them in!" Firmin said.

"You have not or your feet wouldn't hurt!" said Andre.

"They hurt because we've been walking around all bloody day!" spat out Firmin.

"I've walked as much as you and my feet don't hurt!" pointed out Andre.

"And I suppose that's because you wore old shoes?" asked Firmin skeptically.

"No, these are new shoes, actually." Andre said.

"Then why did you tell me to wear old shoes then while you are wearing new shoes?" asked Firmin.

"Because I needed to break mine in. Besides, I shop at a very good shoemaker." said Andre.

"Oh? And he doesn't make shoe's that hurt when you wear them?" asked Firmin.

"Oh no! I'll give you his card when we get home." Andre told him.

"What are we looking for again?" asked Firmin.

"A blue door I believe!" said Andre looking around. Firmin turned around and said,

"Oh there it is, we passed it!"

"Ah!" said Andre as he and Firmin approached the door. Firmin knocked. They waited. Firmin knocked again. They waited again. Upon knocking the third time, Andre said,

"I don't believe she's home!"

"Oh bother!...Look! The gate to her back garden is open." said Firmin walking over to it.

"We can't just walk in there!" said Andre.

"We're just having a look around. Maybe we can find something of Richard's! Come!" Firmin told him pushing back the gate. Andre rolled his eyes,

"He never said detective work was so rude!" He followed and found Firmin in a small, wooden barn with one doe eyed cow chewing on crud and one lazy orange tabby chewing on a mouse. Firmin held a sleeve to his nose to block the smell as he looked up to the hayloft.

"That seems like a good place for Richard to sleep in!" he said putting aside his cane.

"I'll hold the ladder!" said Andre taking hold of the rickety piece of craftsmanship. Firmin began to climb saying,

"Thank you!" He peeked his head over the top of the ladder and looked around.

"Not much around here except hay!" he told Andre.

"Nothing at all?" asked Andre. Firmin looked again, then furrowed his brow at a little black book hidden in the hay.

"Wait a moment..."he took it up and read a few pages, "Ming Vase, 700 francs, bought November 22, 1871...Jade statue, 1000 francs, bought November 30, 1871...my word Andre! I think we found something!"

"Hold it right there!" said a voice from the barn entrance. They saw a local constable with a withered old woman behind his aimed rifle pointing at the partners and saying,

"There they are! The thieves came in my gate after I went next door to give Mrs. Vetir some broth! We saw them from her kitchen window!" As they raised their hands in surrender, the constable told them,

"Mousiers, you're under arrest!"

Meanwhile, Erik and Antoinette got out of the carriage and turned a corner to find themselves walking down St. Paul street. At midday, the wealthy neighborhood donned their hats and parasols and took a leisurely stroll on the pristine walkways to walk off their lavish lunches. Erik paused, hesitant to get in too deep in this strange elite world, but Antoinette smiled up and him and pulled him along by the arm,

"Come along Mousier! We don't wish to appear like we don't belong here!" Erik grunted his indignation and cocked his hat further off to the right side as he walked arm in arm with Antoinette. He noticed the ladies greeting each other and complimenting one another's frilly, lacey or ruffled outfit while the men tipped their hats and nodded a greeting to each other. One lady passed them and told Antoinette,

"What a lovely hat!"

"Merci! Good day!" smiled Antoinette. She looked behind her and whispered to Erik,

"You know what she really thought don't you?"

"No." said Erik shaking his head.

"She thought 'Nice hat, but mine's more expensive, therefore better!' That's how this society girls work. They appear sweet and endearing but they won't hesitate to crush you!" said Antoinette as Erik tipped his hat in greeting a man who passed them.

"I believe I know what you mean. I saw plenty of that attitude at the Populaire. The women would gush over each other's outfits, but a second one left the group the others would talk about how gaudy or ugly it was or even worse they'd imply she didn't get it for anything, if you know what I mean." he told her.

"Sandwiches?" she asked with a wry grin. He looked into her face and smiled,

"Sandwiches." Then, Erik looked ahead and his smile became a victorious one.

"Don't look now my dear, but I believe we are about to meet the Colonel!" She looked ahead and saw a distinguish, handsome man of middle age puffing on a cigar as the buxom young blond on his arm rattled on in a foreign language. But his eyes chilled Antoinette down to the bone. They were filled with an indescribable darkness. She shook away her fears and told him,

"Remember, charm!" He nodded and then began to act better than Shakespeare when he smiled and came forward to the Colonel saying,

"I beg your pardon Mousier! Do you live in this neighborhood?" The Colonel stopped, took out his cigar and said in a tongue laced with an accent,

"Yah. Why do you ask?"

"My name is Erik DuL'Soir and this is my friend Mlle. Antoinette Carone. She is helping me shop for a new house and we thought St. Paul street would be a good place to start." Erik told him.

"It certainly is, Mousier. Allow me to introduce myself. I am Col. Wilhelm Brottlemeijer, and this is my...niece...Mlle. Lily Saliguade." said the Colonel gesturing to the lady on his arm.

"Enchante!" she said in a sweet voice.

"Bon jour!" nodded Antoinette.

"So Colonel you must know if there is a house available around here, don't you? I certainly don't care what it costs!" Erik told him.

"As a matter of fact I was thinking of selling my _maison_ in a few weeks!" said the Colonel with a smile.

"Really? What luck!" said Erik.

""Perhaps you and the Mam'selle would accompany us to the house to have a look around, maybe discuss the possibility of selling it?" suggested the Colonel.

"That sounds like an excellent idea! But we certainly wouldn't want to put you out!" said Erik.

"Nine, nine! It shall be a pleasure mine heir!" said Brottlemeijer with a bow. He turned around leading the way as Antoinette asked him,

"So Colonel. Is that a German accent I detect?"

"It most certainly is! I've only lived in Paris for the last few years. I wish to return to my Berlin as soon as possible! Your France is lovely, but I desire the Motherland once more!" said the Colonel with nostalgia.

"And are you of German heritage as well, Mam'selle?" asked Erik to Mlle. Lily.

"Oh no! I'm French, but Willy here wants me to learn German!" she said with a giggle.

"Willy?" asked Antoinette dryly. They came up to a townhouse and Brottlemeijer said,

"Nickname!" Erik and Antoinette exchanged looks as the Colonel fished out his keys and unlocked the door.

Once inside, the butler took their things and the Colonel told him in direct German to have tea waiting in the conservatory. With a flourish, Brottlemeijer waved a hand about the grand marble foyer and said,

"Well? Does my home make a good first impression, Mousier?" Erik nodded looking at the stained glass skylight above them,

"It does indeed. I myself have always been a student of architecture. The masonry work in here is magnificent."

"Come, let me show you the rest. I notice sir, you are wearing an eye patch. Did you see action in the last war?" asked Brottlemeijer over his shoulder as he lead them up the stairs.

"Nothing as glamorous. I was...injured in a hunting accident." said Erik remembering the alias Firmin and Andre had used.

"War is not glamorous M. DuL'Soir. I myself fought with Count Helmuth in the Battle of Gravelotte. When the Prussian forces took Paris, I myself found the city so inviting I turned in my commission and stayed." the Colonel said. As they came on the second floor landing, Antoinette asked,

"And yet now you wish to return to Germany?"

"I'm afraid I must. I long for the motherland and a business matter I've been trying to resolve must be completed in Berlin." answered the Colonel.

"What sort of business?" asked Erik. Stepping into a large sitting room, the Colonel said,

"I am an antique dealer Mousier. You will notice many fine pieces from my own collection throughout the house. For instance, here in the study..."

The tour bored Antoinette to death. Not only did this man talk incessantly about old brick-a-brack; she couldn't help but feel as if his charming manner and winning smile was hiding something darker, more sinister. It was his dark eyes that gave it away. Those eyes chilled her to the bone. Gratefully, they finished the tour in the conservatory that was just off to the large parlor in the west wing. The gentlemen stood and sipped their tea as Antoinette asked Mlle. Lily,

"So Mam'selle, do you plan to travel with your Uncle to Germany?"

"Come Mousier! Let us leave the ladies to gossip. I can show you around the gardens!" Colonel Brottlemeijer told Erik. They stepped outside, and Antoinette whispered to Lily,

"Now, Mam'selle. Is it safe to presume the Colonel is not REALLY your uncle?" Outside, the Colonel told Erik with a laugh,

"No, Lily is not my niece..." Inside Lily said,

"I was a can-can dancer and we met while I was in the chorus. He said he knew it was love when he saw me raise my foot over my head! Want to see?" Stopping her from lifting her skirts, Antoinette said,

"That's quite alright dear!" Outside, Brottlemeijer said,

But I found in France the only acceptable way to keep a mistress is if you are married first. I am a confirmed bachelor Mousier!"

"And yet why do you care what others should think?" asked Erik. Inside, Lily told Antoinette as she poured another cup of tea,

"He needs to look good for business. Besides, he's going to marry me someday! He told me himself!"

"Well yes...Say Mam'selle tell me. Did the Colonel ever mention or introduce you to a Roland Richard?" asked Antoinette. Outside, The Colonel looked to the sky and said in thought,

"Richard, did you say? No...never heard such a name."

"I thought you might of heard of him from the paper this morning..." said Erik with a shrug. The Colonel snapped his fingers,

"Oh yes! Faked his death and then showed up two days ago on his widow's doorstep, right? Peculiar case. I suppose he ran off with a mistress!" Inside, Lily told Antoinette,

"Willy was awfully upset this morning when he got the paper. Something about some homeless man ending up dead. He wouldn't tell me about it. Told me to go back to planning our party."

"Party?" asked Antoinette.

"Yes, just a formal little gathering to have some fun before winter settles in." said the Colonel. "You and Miss Carone should attend!"

"Oh no, we couldn't!" said Erik.

"I insist...and invite your employers M. Andre and M. Firmin...I look forward to meeting them..." said the Colonel with a triumphant and dark smirk. Surprised, but keeping his face and tone even, Erik said,

"You know of us then?"

"The men I hire to follow a person takes very good mental notes, Mousier. Especially if she is young and beautiful like your Mlle. Carone. I do not know what you are after...but I so desire a challenge." the Colonel told him. Erik said with his authoritive and commanding voice,

"You shall most certainly get one Colonel." said Erik. Turning to the conservatory once more, Brottlemeijer said,

"And now...you must be leaving!" Erik walked past him and told Antoinette,

"Come Mlle. Carone. We have a few more houses to visit!" Noticing the dark look in his eyes, Antoinette stood and smiled at Lily,

"It had most certainly been a pleasure speaking with you Mam'selle!"

"Same here, Doll!" said Lily waving at them politely as they got their things and walked out. Instantly, Lily's countenance changed from simple and starry eyed to seductive and plotting. She looked up at the Colonel who poured himself some fresh tea and said,

"So! Did he take the bait?"

"He did! And I'm sure his employers will as well! And while we wine and dine the Andre and Firmin detective agency, my men shall do a full check on their home and office!" said the Colonel proud of himself.

"But what if one of them sneaks away to go snooping around?" asked Lily taking up her tea. The Colonel chuckled,

"Only a phantom can find his way in my world, Lipshin!"

A half-hour later, Erik helped Antoinette down from the carriage as she said,

"Erik, I don't trust that man!"

"Neither do I. But this is the best opportunity to see what he's up to!" Erik told her as they came up the drive. Suddenly, Jean Claude burst through the front door and exclaimed,

"Mam'selle! Thank heavens you're home!"

"Jean Claude, what's the matter?" asked Antoinette picking up her skirts as she rushed up the front steps.

"I just received word Miss!"

"What word?" asked Antoinette.

"Mrs. Ravon and Miss Janet haven't stopped crying..." Erik snapped at him,

"For God's sake man! Spit it out!"

"M. Andre and M. Firmin have been arrested Mousier!" Jean Claude told them as they looked at each other before turning back to the carriage and ducking inside.

Meanwhile, Andre shifted closer to Firmin on the damp splintered bench trying not to touch the dirty old wino snoring loudly beside him. Firmin looked around at the rough looking men in the cell with them. They were eyeing him like he might be their last meal. Firmin muttered to Andre,

"Andre, don't get to close to me while we are in jail!"

"Well it's your fault for sneaking in the barn!" Andre told him.

"You held the ladder!" Firmin said.

"Well you saw the open gate!" argued Andre.

"You followed me!" pointed out Firmin.

"And you never told me detective work would be so rude AND so you never told me we'd run into the risk of getting arrested!" yelled Andre. Firmin sighed and said,

"You win. I'm tired of arguing with you!"

"Well I'm tired of arguing with you!" said Andre as Firmin rolled his eyes. They waited a few more minutes, when they heard the unlocking of a door. A policeman came in and announced pointing to the partner's with his nightstick,

"You two! You have company!" He stepped aside and in walked Erik, looking coldly. Firmin and Andre rushed forward and grasped the bars saying,

"Thank heavens!"

"Now we can get out of here!"

"Not so fast Mousiers!" said Erik.

"Oh Erik, come now! You don't intend to leave us in here do you?" asked Andre.

"Possibly," said Erik folding his arms. He continued, "How on Earth did you two end up in here?"

"Ask him!" said the partners nodding to each other.

"Before I consider letting you out, can you give me something conclusive to think about? Like, oh say, the CASE for example?" asked Erik sarcastically.

"How about the little black book full of an inventory of expensive collectables bought in the year 1871?" offered Andre.

"An inventory of collectables? Of course, the Colonel!" exclaimed Erik snapping his fingers.

"The Colonel? So you found out about him then?" asked Firmin.

"More than I would have liked. His name is Wilhelm Brottlemeijer, and he's from Germany with a war record. Did I mention he's an ANTIQUE dealer?" Erik told them.

"But what does an inventory of fine antiques have to do with the Commune and the treasury?" asked Firmin.

"Perhaps they're STOLEN antiquities! If this Colonel Brottlemeijer is crooked enough to have us followed, who's to say he's not into the black market?" suggested Andre.

"And the Commune did business with him, buying antiques cheap so they could resell them at a profit!" said Erik.

"But why would Brottlemeijer sell them cheap?" asked Andre.

"We're business Andre, think! He probably needed to unload them! And if the Nationalists remained in power, the new government might repay him and look the other way while doing business!" Firmin told him.

"Sounds smart to me." said a miscellaneous criminal in the jail cell leaning in a corner near Firmin. As Firmin raised a brow looking oddly at the eavesdropper, Erik began to pace,

"Anyone in that committee would have reason to want that inventory. The Colonel to cover his tracks..."

"Sergeant Letrec lied about his whereabouts during the Commune. He said he had fled to Versailles, but then he said at the same time he was breaking down protests which is why he was too busy to see Richard." pointed out Andre.

"And the Doctor outright threatened me and evaded my question." said Firmin.

"And Antoinette said Father Tomas grew pale and ill looking as if he had been caught. Anyone of them could have reason to kill Richard." said Erik.

"But this is all speculation. We need proof! And we still haven't addressed the issue that Richard was tortured!" said Firmin.

"We shall discover who tortured him. And I think we may find proof when we attend the gala Colonel Brottlemeijer is giving." said Erik as the door leading to the cells began to open again. Firmin said,

"We're going to what?" Antoinette walked in greeted by catcalls, whoops, hollers and whistles from the other inmates. They wouldn't stop as the officer banged on the cell with his nightstick and said,

"Button it!" But to his surprise, and to Antoinette's and the partners as well, Erik glared at all of them and actually growled, gnashing his teeth. A dead silence fell. Still shooting a look to kill, Erik regained his calm voice and told them,

"The Colonel knows who we are and that we're investigating him. So he's invited us to his party."

"What!" asked Firmin.

"It's a trap!" said Andre.

"Oh no Mousiers. I know his thinking. He merely wants to toy with us and play the game on his turf. We shall most certainly attend." said Erik.

"Well if anyone is interested, I've paid the bail money." said Antoinette dryly.

"Well it's about time!" said Andre.

"Mam'selle you should have been quicker about it so we wouldn't have to stay in here as long as we have!" Firmin told her.

"Really, you must be losing your touch." said Andre. Antoinette turned to Erik and said,

"Maybe we should leave them in there!"

"NOO!" yelled the partners. Antoinette smiled aside at them,

"Just kidding Mousiers."

"Sorry Mam'selle!" said Firmin.

"You know we are grateful!" said Andre.

"Thank you, and for your information, I was speaking with the Widow Coudre!" she said.

"What did she have to say, the old Bat!" said Andre bitterly.

"Besides, she's dropping the charges?" They turned sheepish, "That she's been letting a Mr. Roland stay in her barn for a month now, doing odd chores to earn his keep, and though he was very polite, he's been waking her at all hours of the night with him screaming out in his sleep." she told them.

"Screaming?" asked Andre.

"Mr. Richard must have been released from his torture for a month or else he wouldn't scream so. Wouldn't you say so Erik?...Erik?" Antoinette said. But Erik was a world away again, but this time, the world was frightening for he was pale and sweating. His eyes defensive and scared like a child in the dark. As he began to breath heavily, shutting his eyes tight, Antoinette shook his arm,

"Erik! Erik talk to me!"

"Erik snap out of it!" yelled Firmin.

"He okay?" asked a prisoner.

"Should I get a doctor?" asked the guard. Antoinette took his face in his hands and got nose to nose with him, despite the fact Erik grabbed her wrists in an iron grip and pain coursed through her body.

"ERIK! ERIK, FOCUS ON ME! FOCUS ON ME!" she yelled. Suddenly, Erik snapped his eyes opened and slowed his breathing as he began to look at her. She whispered,

"Where were you just now?" He said in a ragged breath threatening to choke up,

"B...b...back with the gypsies..."

"Were they beating you?" she asked in a hushed tone. He nodded as she stroked his hair. There was silence a moment, silence and a quiet communication between their eyes. His telling her how much he needed her, her's telling him it was okay. Firmin cleared his throat,

"I suggest we get going. We have a party to prepare for!"

The invitation to Col. Brottlemeijer's party came the very next day in the post. Two nights later, the men came down the stairs in black coat and tails, Firmin telling Jean Claude,

"We'll be back no later than two...three if we decide to mix business with pleasure!"

"Of course sirs!" said Jean Claude. Andre looked to Erik who was fidgeting with his glove.

"Erik, you seem nervous for some reason."

"A masque I can deal with. But I've never attended a party where faces could be viewed openly." Erik admitted.

"Never fear Mousier! Allow M. Firmin and myself give you some pointers about dealing with proper society!" said Andre.

"First, never act as if you don't belong. Because then people will treat you like you don't!" said Firmin.

"Instead, treat the others of the upper class like THEY don't belong." added Andre and Erik furrowed his brow.

"Flirt with ladies constantly!" said Firmin.

"But don't make them seem like they're streetwalkers!" said Andre.

"Thought Lord knows half of them act like it!" muttered Firmin.

"Finally, stick to generic conversation. The weather, people's health, who's cheating on who, that sort of thing!" said Andre with a brush off.

"To discuss politics only leads to fights, and discussing cultural things like art and music only leave others inferior and confused!" said Firmin.

"Much like this whole conversation!" quipped Erik. Firmin sighed and yelled up the stairs,

"Mlle. Carone! What the devil is taking so long!" Suddenly, Antoinette appeared in a rich silk gown of royal purple, which was off shoulder with a slight plunge to the neckline. She said coming down the stairs, her train following behind her,

"Coming Mousier! Coming! Honestly, you men simply don't appreciate that it takes time to look gorgeous for you!" Erik came up to her with an astonished tone,

"You look exquisite!" she smiled devilishly,

"Well! I suppose some of you do!" They donned their capes and top hats, and flew away to the carriage to the Colonel's stately maison. The party was in full swing as Brottlemeijer greeted them at the door enthusiastically,

"Ah, Mousiers! At last we meet! Col. Wilhelm Brottlemeijer at your service!" As he clicked his heels, Firmin said,

"A pleasure, Colonel. Michael Firmin, my partner Giles Andre. And I believe you've already met our assistants!"

"Ah yes. We had a most pleasant visit! Tell me. Did you both meet M. DuL'Soir at the Opera Populaire?" asked the Colonel. Surprised, Andre said,

"You know we use to own the Opera then?"

"I asked about. And I'm sure you of all people shall enjoy my surprise tonight!" said the Colonel with a wide grin.

"What surprise?" asked Firmin. Brottlemeijer waved a finger at them, acting as a schoolboy,

"Ah, ah, ah! There is a reason it is called a surprise Mousier! Have a most enjoyable evening!" As the Colonel walked away to see to other guests, Firmin said while taking a glass of champagne from a waiter's tray,

"He's up to something!"

"But what?" asked Andre.

"Something to make us all on edge!" said Erik taking a glass as well.

"What could he possible pull out his hat to put us on edge?" asked Antoinette sipping from her glass. Suddenly, the Colonel gently tapped his glass with a knife and caught everyone attention saying,

"Friends! We are most fortunate tonight! For I actually managed to convince a great artist come perform for us tonight! Madams, Mousiers and Mam'selles! I give you...Madame Carlotta Gurtecelli!"


	6. Chapter 6

**_A/N: Decided to merge chapters 6 and 7 together. Same content but longer and with spelling revisions. And for some reason, I can't find Phantom and the Secretary 2 on the Phantom page. But you all found it because I got hundreds of hits! But is anyone else having this problem? Maybe this merger will fix it._**

**_Anyway, please read and review!_**

**_peace, love and lipgloss, _**

**_Mlle. Fox_**

As everyone applauded, Antoinette looked around at her companions. Firmin promptly spit out his champagne, Andre looked totally abashed, and Erik stood frozen, his lips to the edge of his glass and his eyes wide with panic. Their backs were away from the crowd that gathered around the Italian beauty, and to Antoinette's indignation, she and La Carlotta were wearing the same dress. Only to her chagrin, the tall redhead filled it out better. Slowly, Erik and the partners regained their composure, but they kept their backs to the loud chattering diva smiling at the shower of praise she was receiving. Erik lowered his glass and tapped nervously against the side with his finger while Firmin told him,

"We'll distract them. You and Mlle. Carone get out of here!" Erik nodded and took Antoinette by the arm making for the exit at the opposite end of the room. Andre muttered to Firmin,

"Here we go again!"

"Just smile and asked like you've missed her!" Firmin mumbled to him. They turned, plastering on their faces their most convincing smiles and came though the crowd, Andre saying warmly,

"Princepesa; Bella Diva!"

"Goddess of Song!" said Firmin as Carlotta furrowed her brow in confusion at the two men.

"What are you two doin' here, huh?" she asked suspiciously with a thick Italian laced accent.

"We've recently come into an acquaintance with Col. Brottlemeijer and he was gracious enough to invite us tonight! And we are most grateful he did, aren't we M. Andre?" Firmin asked.

"For now we have the pleasure of hearing your magnificent voice again!" said Andre. She raised a skeptically eyebrow,

"Magnificent, huh?"

"Perfection! Of course, what is one to expect when it comes from such a perfect beauty!" said Firmin as a satisfied grin grew on Carlotta's face. Meanwhile, Antoinette said to Erik as he pulled her along,

"I don't completely understand why we can't let this Carlotta person see you..."

"She's seen my face! If she recognizes me, it will be the end of us all! Now hurry! This..." But Erik was cut off mid-sentence when the Colonel blocked his path and said with a rakish grin.

"Where ever are you going M. DuL'Soir? La Carlotta is that way!" Erik smiled his most convincing smile,

"Of course she is Mousier! But Mlle. Carone and I just wish to speak privately for a moment..."

"Nonsense! Whatever it is, it can wait until Madame Gurtecelli has finished. Come and join us!" said the Colonel in a cheerful tone, with a shrewd look that dared Erik not to. Erik was running out of ideas, when Antoinette whispered in his ear,

"I'll distract him, you get out of here! Meet me outside in fifteen minutes by our carriage!" Then she stepped forward to the Colonel and smiled her most flirtatious smile,

"Heir Colonel? Could you possibly introduce me to La Carlotta? I'm such a fan, and I'd feel less nervous with such an intelligent and powerful specimen on my arm like you." Flattered at her batting eyelashes, he took her by the arm and escorted her back to the other side of the room saying to Erik,

"If you will excuse us, Mousier!" Erik clenched his hands fighting off the rush of jealousy for a moment, before realizing he had to get out of there. He walked pass the gathering crowds and came into an office by the looks of it. He was about to make for the window, when a feminine voice said behind him,

"Aren't you going to join us Mousier?" He spun around to see Lily, but the look in her eyes shown not a simple nature but a clever one. He gulped and said,

"Actually, Mam'selle. I'd rather stay in here. You see...I get claustrophobic."

"Claustro-what?" she asked confused.

"It means I'm not good in rooms with a great deal of people. I feel restricted and tense." he told her, praying to God she would buy it. Instead, she came closer and said with a seductive whisper as she stroked his forearm,

"Perhaps I might help...relax you?" Erik was stunned. Another beautiful woman had willingly made open advances towards him. But this time, all Erik could think about was Antoinette. This creature before him would make men kill themselves for her, but he felt nothing. He was numb at the thought of her. At the thought of Antoinette however, he felt a raging fire in the inner most core of his soul. He feigned a look of disgust, and said,

"Actually I get quite nauseous as well..." She turned up her nosed and said,

"Well...you are free to go into the library, but I must ask you leave the study."

"Certainly...but why?" asked Erik innocently though his suspicions were aroused.

"Willy is expecting...visitors...and I wouldn't want to get this place messy...if you know what I mean..." she said.

"Of course. Lead the way, Mam'selle!" he said in a friendly tone. she lead him out, showing him the door to the library, which Erik noticed was in plain sight of the parlor. He opened the door, watching the Colonel watch him. As he stepped inside, Carlotta said by her place next to the piano, looking to the study,

"Who iz that man?"

"What man?" asked Firmin looking nervously to his partner.

"That man who juzt ztepped into the library...he lookz familiar..." she said in wonder.

"Who cares! Carlotta, please! Won't you give us your presentation of 'Think of Me'? We never got to hear it sung in completion!" begged Andre with adoration. Carlotta smiled,

"If my managerz command!"

"But we do!" said Firmin kissing the back of her hand. The accompanist began to play the familiar chords and Carlotta began to sing in a fair voice that turned sour once she hit a high note,

"Think of me...think of me fond-ly, when we zaid GOOD-byeee!" As Andre winced and Firmin sighed, Antoinette saw Lily walk up to the Colonel's right side. Unfortunately, they spoke in German.

"(What's he up to?)" asked the Colonel.

"(Nothing. The pansy felt ill. I sent him to the library.)" answered Lily.

"(Well, if he comes out...we shall know it.)" said the Colonel. Inside the library, Erik noticed no other doors, then groaned as if in pain when he heard one of Carlotta's sour notes.

"I knew I should have sent fire to her when she first came into the Populaire..." he said to himself with dark humor. He went over to the window and opened it, looking out to the dark streets below, lit only by the lamplights on the coaches of the guests inside. The ledge was small, but nothing Erik could handle. He climbed out, careful to shut the window behind him, and slowly crept along the five inches on concrete molding. But his purpose was not escape, but to go around to the study window. Once he got there, he saw nothing through the crack in the curtains at first, but a careful push of the hand on the window revealed it was opened. He waited, hearing with melancholy that straining on the hearing that was Carlotta's voice, when suddenly the door creaked opened, and a group of footfalls entered. Erik heard Col. Brottlemeijer say,

"Gentlemen! So good of you to come! I hope you can stay for Madame Gurtecelli's performance and a glass of champagne!"

"Drop the chivalry Brottlemeijer! We came to get business over and done with!" said a gruff commanding voice.

"Sgt. Letrec, it was merely my intention to be hospitable! Isn't that a Fruit of the Spirit, Father Tomas?" asked the Colonel as Erik lifted his brow in surprise. Two of the three members of the Commune Treasury Committee were here. Now only if the third...

"Heir Colonel. You forget an man must receive the spirit before he receives the fruits." said a third voice.

"But of course Dr. Christi." Erik's face grew into a half grin,

"_Checkmate!_"

"Why did you ask us here Colonel?" asked the priest.

"Simply to ask you all this question one time. Where is the collection I sold you? You never sold it and made a profit. My men across Europe have seen to that." demanded the Colonel, his voice rising to something near a growl.

"Don't look at us! We're in the dark!" said Christi.

"Liar!" yelled Brottlemeijer.

"Brottlemeijer, when the Commune was disbanded, Richard hid the collection without telling us where!" answered Letrec.

"We know as much as you!" said Christi.

"And you Father? Did Richard never tell you where the fortune lay hidden?" asked Brottlemeijer briskly.

"No. But even if he did I wouldn't tell you. For I want no part in any of this! I only joined the Commune for the same reason other Parisian churches did. Because that was where God's people were! Now I bid you all good night!" said Father Tomas. After his footsteps stomped away, and a door slammed, Brottlemeijer sighed,

"I'll deal with him later...Now Gentleman, you are to find the fortune before twenty-four hours or I shall have to show how serious I am. You do remember our contract don't you?"

"Contract? What contract?" asked Letrec.

"This one." he said with a rustle of papers from his deck. "The contract your Late M. Richard signed guaranteeing my low finder's fee in exchange for an extended pardon for all past, present and future black market dealings on my part."

"You dastard!" shouted Christi standing and tipping over his chair with a thud.

"You can't make that stick! Not without exposing yourself!" said Letrec.

"You'd be surprised who else I have found favor with in Paris Mousiers. My man shall show you out. Bon Soir, Gentlemen!" said Brottlemeijer dryly as he dismissed them. When they were gone, Erik pushed the window open a bit more, seeing Brottlemeijer stick the contract inside his desk and locking the drawer with a key he placed in his pocket. The Colonel made for the door, when he felt a presence nearby. As if someone was watching him. Then he shook it off and left. Erik quickly stepped down from the window and over to the desk. Seeing the locked right drawer was right next to a long unlocked middle drawer, Erik quietly slipped the middle drawer out and then reached his hand inside and over the narrow space to the right. His fingers strained and stretched for the papers for several moment before he caught a corner and lifted them out. He smiled in triumph and then replaced the middle drawer. He tucked the contract inside his jacket pocket and exited out the window once more.

Meanwhile, Antoinette was slowly edging her way to the door, when she bumped into Col. Brottlemeijer.

"Leaving so soon my dear?" he asked cheerfully. She smiled,

"Suddenly, I've developed a..." A loud sour note sounded from the parlor, "...headache!" she continued shutting her eyes in pain. He stepped forward and took her hand in his,

"Why don't you stay? I've got just the remedy for..."He kissed her hand, "...headaches!" Even thought she wore gloves and a smile, Antoinette felt as if slime had just devoured her hand. She said,

"I really must be going...thank you!" Then she made for the door, grabbing her cape from the butler on the way out. She didn't dare look back for she knew his hungry eyes were watching her. She stepped into the cool night air and sighed in content. She went down the steps and over to the carriage they came in, but when the coachman opened the door, no one was inside.

"Has M. DuL'Soir shown up yet?" she asked.

"Not yet Mam'selle!" said the driver. She got in and sighed, worried about Erik. What if something terrible happened to him? She was so lost in her fears, she jumped with a start as a loud thud came on the roof, something heavy weighing down the top of the carriage. The driver shouted an obscenity in surprise, to which Erik's voice calmly replied,

"Quiet! Take us to Third and Bareshere!" Suddenly, his feet slid through the window, followed by his thin frame.

"Erik! What on earth...?" she started.

"No time to explain. But I believe we are going to be followed!" said Erik. Antoinette looked out the rear window, and sure enough, there was a following hansom. She looked to him and said dryly,

"You're always' right, aren't you?"

The carriage quietly rolled along the city streets as Erik kept glancing out the back window and sighed in frustration. Noting his tense manner, Antoinette asked cautiously,

"So...I take it we are trying to shake them since Third and Bareshere is nowhere near our home?" He grunted and nodded in response, to which she asked,

"And you found something interesting yes?" This time, Erik responded by pulling out the contract and placing them in her lap as he turned to look behind them once more and said,

"Extremely interesting! Something that I believe will help us solve the case!" Antoinette read over the contents, her face drawing up into a frown.

"Erik...did you actually read this?" He looked down from the window and to her and said,

"No...why?"

"While this states the terms of a finder's fee for Brottlemeijer, it makes no mention of the Commune, the treasury or anything illegal! All it does is connect a 'respectable' antiques dealer with a dead man." she told him as he read the contents. He shut his eyes and then hit the side of the carriage in anger, slumping in his seat,

"Idiot! Of course, Brottlemeijer would cover his tracks! Stupid!" Antoinette smiled at his brooding, and then called out to the driver,

"Stop here please!"

"Oui Mam'selle!" said the coachman as Erik looked to her confused,

"Toni, what are you doing?" She took his hand and said pulling him from the carriage once they stopped,

"Mousier, you need some cool night air to extinguish that hot head of yours!" She told the driver to go on and then she dragged him over to a small park lined with cypress tress and rose bushes. Erik looked back to the hansom that had been following them and told her as they stopped,

"But the carriage! They'll..."

"They'll go away once they get bored looking at two lovebirds making out in the park!" she told him.

"What?" he asked turning his head back to her. To his surprise, she pulled his head down by the neck and began to kiss him, long and passionately. He closed his eyes and turned his head to deepen the kiss, placing his hands on her hips, a small groan of pleasure escaping his throat. When she heard the tell tale signs of a horse taking a wheeled carriage away, she pulled away and asked with her eyes still closed,

"Are they gone?"

"Who cares!" he said bringing his mouth down on hers again. A smile crept into her lips as she wrapped her arms around his neck. When they finally pulled apart to gasp for air, she purred with a giggle running his finger along his lower lips,

"Feeling better?" He shut his eyes again and leaned his forehead against hers, sighing,

"Where were you ten years ago when I needed you?"

"Living in Louisiana and still too much of a Tomboy to think about boys." she replied. He chuckled looking into her eyes with amusement,

"Somehow, I can't just picture you as a Tomboy!"

"Oh please! I ripped many a dress just to climb the tallest oak trees right alongside the boys! I've given many males black eyes too, so watch yourself!" she told him mockingly punching his jaw.

"So when did you stop being a Tomboy?" he asked. She shrugged,

"Once a Tomboy always a Tomboy! Though I did grow interested in dresses and gentlemen callers, I've maintained a reckless nature and an independent streak."

"No! Really?" he said with mock disbelief. She laughed,

"Well, admitingly, it has caused some heartache as well. Being a Tomboy allowed me to know what I wanted in a man...and that has lead to a lot of lonely nights. For the life of me, I couldn't find that man..."

"And now?" he asked fearing the answer. She stroked his cheek,

"The nights are a little less lonely..." He took her hand and pulled her along asking,

"Can I show you something?"

"Show me what?" she asked as Erik led her over to a corner of a building. Immediately, he found footholds in the masonry and began to climb up a bit. He looked back down to her and held out a hand,

"My world." For the first time in his relationship with the woman, he noticed Antoinette suddenly became timid as she took his hand. He pulled her up and told her,

"Put your arms around my neck!"

"Gladly!" she muttered into his shoulder. He resumed climbing up the building, careful to hide them both in the shadows until they finally reached the roof of the building. Once they were on solid footing, Erik said to Antoinette who was still hanging on to his neck and shutting her eyes tight,

"You can let go now!" With her eyes still shut, she said,

"Uh...did I fail to mention I never climbed an oak tree branch that was further than ten feet off the ground?" He pried her arms off his neck, chuckling,

"You're afraid of heights?"

"When the heights are further than ten feet, yes!" she said with her eyes shut. He stood behind her and wrapped his arms around her, edging her to the edge.

"Come on! You'll miss something." he told her.

"Like what?" she asked. He whispered in her ear, his warm breath and soothing voice sending shivers down her spine,

"The view." Suddenly feeling braver, she opened her eyes and gasped. Paris was before her feet, with a few hundred oil lamps glowing brightly, making the skyline look like the night sky. The majestic buildings of old, the cathedrals all stood at attention for the lady present.

"Oh Erik! It's beautiful!" she said her face wide with glee.

"Want to see more?" he asked.

"Oh yes!" she said. Then Erik scooped her up into his arms and he gave her a playful wink before running across the roof and jumping to the next building.

"ERRIIIKKKK!" Antoinette screamed as they landed. For several moments, Erik just grinned wickedly at Antoinette who had shut her eyes once more before she said,

"I hate you...so much right now!"

Meanwhile, Andre and Firmin were grabbing their hats and capes trying to hasten their exit, when they stopped dead in their tracks at hearing,

"Zenorz!" Praying for mercy, Firmin turned and smiled,

"Yes Madame Gurtecelli?" The redhead sashayed up to them and said,

"I hear...you two are detectivez now, yez?"

"That is correct, Madame!" said Andre.

"Well, I've got zomething to tell you that might be a mystery, no? You zee..." she started. Firmin stopped her,

"Senora! We would be happy to hear it, but tomorrow, in our office!" Andre whispered aside to him,

"Our office? Are you mad?"

"Since when does La Carlotta go out of her way to meet someone at their office?" asked Firmin sure of himself. Carlotta asked,

"Where iza your office, Zenor?"

"Right on Main Street! Big white building can't miss it! Until then, Senora!" said Firmin gallantly kissing her hand. She smiled and said,

"Ciao! Bright and early!"

"Bright and early!" repeated Andre as they made good their exit. They sighed in relief once outside and Andre told his partner as they hailed a cab,

"Good work my dear Firmin!"

"It was nothing Andre!" said Firmin as they got in the cab.

An hour later, and a few years older in Antoinette's opinion, she and Erik walked up the drive to the house when Antoinette stopped Erik and said with concern,

"Why is the door open?" He shushed her and pulled her along behind him, stepping cautiously through the front door. What he saw, was an absolute mess. Tables and chairs were knocked over, carpet thrown about, vases destroyed, pictures laying flat on the floor. They found the parlor in the chaos and saw Jean Claude, Mrs. Ravons and Janet sitting on the floor, tied up with the curtain cord and gagged with handkerchiefs.

"Are you all alright?" gasped Antoinette as she and Erik rushed forward to untie them. Jean Claude nodded,

"We're fine, but we've been robbed Miss!"


	7. Chapter 7

**_A/N: Sorry it took a few days to review. I had to work n'junk. But I finally finished! Please read and review!_**

**_peace, love and lipgloss, _**

**_Mlle.Fox_**

The next morning, the police was there; taking photographs and leaving powder all over the place. Andre went through the desk in the study; Erik was brooding in a corner, Antoinette was going though the house with Jean Claude and the Inspector to determine what was missing, and Firmin was pacing and shouting,

"This is an outrage! I've lived in this house for fifteen years and there has never once been a break in! Now there is one in MY home!"

"Well, nothing's missing from the desk..." sighed Andre. Antoinette threw up her hands,

"And nothing's missing from the rest of the house! It's all here!"

"Then what the devil could they have wanted?" asked Firmin. Erik stroked his chin and asked Firmin,

"What happened to that black notebook you were telling me about? Firmin stopped in his tracks and looked up to the ceiling and thought,

"I believe I left it in my jacket pocket. Jean Claude, go check my clothes from last Wednesday!" Jean Claude bowed before leaving the room,

"Yes sir."

"Do you think that's what they were after?" asked Andre.

"Without a doubt!" said Erik.

"What's this notebook you speak of Mousiers?" asked the Inspector jotting down notes. Firmin answered,

"We are detectives' sir. And the notebook is evidence in a murder case!"

"Any leads?" asked the policeman.

"We have four suspects yes." said Andre.

"Actually Mousiers, I believe we only have three..." said Antoinette in thought.

"What do you mean?" Erik asked her.

"I was thinking; Dr. Christi is a coroner. He of all people would know how to kill someone. Why would he leave Richard alive to possible spill the beans or chance his recovery?" Antoinette submitted to them.

"Richard was killed with a knife. Perhaps he was rushed." thought Andre out loud. Erik stepped forward,

"No, I believe Antoinette is right Mousier. As a doctor who specializes in dead patients, he would know how to kill someone instantly." The Inspector interrupted,

"Did you say Dr. Christi, Mousier?"

"Yes? What of it?" asked Firmin.

"Everyone down at the prescient knows Dr. Christi from murder scenes, but we all took notice when we received an assault report early this morning. Someone beat him up right and proper." the Inspector told him.

"Did you say early this morning? Do you're men all go home at a certain time?" asked Andre.

"No Mousier. There's always at least a dozen officers on duty at the station." he told them as Jean Claude reentered the room.

"Interesting!" said Erik looking to the carpet in thought.

"Mousier, I checked ALL the clothes in your wardrobe, but I found no notebook!" reported Jean Claude.

"What? Are you sure?" asked Firmin.

"Oh M. Firmin, you didn't misplace it did you?" groaned Antoinette.

"No! I could have sworn I had it in my pocket! I had it before we were arrested!" said Firmin. Erik put on a determined face and started to barge out of the room.

"Now where are you going?" asked Andre yelling out to his retreating back. Erik said over his shoulder before moving past the team of policemen inspecting the doorways,

"To confession!" Firmin muttered dryly,

"About time!"

Later, Father Tomas sat down in the confessional and pushed back the screen separating him from the sinner on the other side.

"Forgive me Father for I have sinned." said the rich baritone.

"What do you have to confess my son?" asked Father Tomas.

"You first Father. Tell me of your involvement with the Paris Commune." said the man. Father Tomas gasped and looked through the screen, making out the tall young man with dark hair and an eye patch on his right eye.

"Who are you?" demanded the priest.

"It depends. If you cooperate, a friend. If not, a foe. I work for the Andre and Firmin Detective Agency. I believe you've already met Mlle. Carone." said Erik. The priest gathered his things,

"I don't have to tell you anything!"

"If not me then I'm afraid you'll end up like your friend, Dr. Christi. He was beaten badly this morning."

"You didn't...?" asked Father Tomas sitting back down.

"No, I believe that is the work of our other mutual friend, Col. Brottlemeijer. Please Father...let me help you!" pleaded Erik. Tomas sighed,

"I was only a part of the committee so they'd have a meeting place. The Commune used lots of churches back then. I don't know anything about this so-called collection of fine antiques. But I do know Roland was fearful of someone when I last saw him."

"When was that?" asked Erik.

"About a week ago." Seeing Erik's surprise, Father Tomas chuckled, "Don't be so shocked. He told me he had been taken to a prison and beaten daily for the last four years. He felt guilty for wanting to die. When Mlle. Carone told me he was dead, I knew someone had killed him. I knew...for he came to me and confessed his sin as well."

"It was Sgt. Letrec wasn't it?" asked Erik. The priest nodded,

"I recognized his voice, but he didn't know mine. I was afraid he would come and kill me as well. Apparently, I should have known God would send a rescuer. I ask forgiveness for my cowardess from you and the Father."

"Once you hear what I have done Father...I think you'll find I'm not worthy to give forgiveness..." sighed Erik before pouring out to him his whole life story. He didn't know why he did it, he just felt as if he should. He told it before to Antoinette, with Andre and Firmin listening nearby, but telling it to a man closer to God made him feel better. When he finished, the priest said,

"So you're the fallen angel she prayed for."

"I beg your pardon?" asked Erik.

"Until three years ago, a young girl with long curly brown hair came here every day to pray for her Angel of Music. She also sang the hymns so beautifully, I often thought she was an angel herself. She prayed her tutor would find someone to love him as she could not. And I'm not being too presumptuous by saying He's answered her prayer." replied the priest.

"How?" asked Erik.

"I'm guessing...your Mlle. Carone." said the priest as Erik leaned his head back against the back of the confessional,

"That's another sin I must atone for!"

"How so, My Son?" asked Father Tomas.

"I've lusted in my heart after her. Every time I speak with her, look at her, touch her! How am I suppose to keep both of us pure?" asked Erik.

"By relying on the Father's love, the Savior's wisdom and the Spirit's strength. Well, we've both confessed out sins before God. What now?" asked Father Tomas.

"Go to the police, not Letrec's prescient, and give them this letter!" said Erik slipped a sheet of paper thought a slit in the vent. "I'm going to find Letrec!"

Erik left the church, and headed over to the office. What he found was a mess of ruin like at the house. He looked at Antoinette who sighed,

"They came here too!" Erik nodded,

"Then they are after the wrong person. Letrec has the notebook."

"Sgt. Letrec? So he killed Richard?"

"I just got a confession from Father Tomas. He doesn't know where the collection is, but Richard came to see him last week. He told him he had been tortured in prison for four years." said Erik.

"Of course! And Letrec had the authority to arrest him!" said Antoinette.

"And then the Father told me that Letrec confessed to him about murdering Richard." said Erik.

"That's how he knew Richard was stabbed! But why didn't he tell me?" asked Antoinette.

"When you confess to a priest, you're safe in knowing he won't tell anyone but God." said Erik leaning on the desk.

"But he told you!" she said.

"That was only after I told him what happened to Christi. He saw reason." said Erik.

"But Erik, what if he lied? Maybe he told you what you wanted to hear to throw you off!" suggested Antoinette.

"No, because think about it. Firmin had that notebook when they were arrested. They took all their belongings at the station remember? Letrec must have taken the notebook then. And remember he lied about being alone at the station. In all his years, he knew having no alibi can be useful in making a detective believe you didn't do something. If done properly." said Erik.

"Clever thinking. So what do we do now?" she asked.

"We go over his head to the police commissioner. Meanwhile we have to find where Richard hid those antiques!" said Erik stroking his chin with his thumb. A brief knock came on the door and in came Maurice Richard in mourning black and a little smile.

"M. Richard! We haven't seen you for a few days!" smiled Antoinette.

"I got wrapped up in preparing the funeral, having my father lie in state and helping mother. Erik!" said Maurice shaking Erik's hand.

"Mousier!" said Erik taking his hand and nodding.

"We're to have that poker game Saturday night after the funeral Friday morning. My father loved to play cards so my companions and I thought we'd play a hand for him, toast his memory and all that! Can you come?" asked Maurice.

"Just send a carriage for me!" said Erik.

"So...how goes the investigation?" asked Maurice fiddling with his hat.

"Wonderful! It's solved!" said Antoinette. Maurice became surprised,

"You can't be serious! Who? Who did it?"

"Sgt. Philippe Letrec." said Erik. Maurice ran a hand through his hair,

"I can't believe it! He used to bounce me on his knee! You never know do you?"

"One more thing needs to be resolved before we can have him charged. We discovered your father planned to sell antiques on the black market to raise the funds for the Commune. We just need to know where his stored them! Did he have a warehouse or anything like that?" asked Antoinette.

"He had six warehouses! Plus two summer homes, and an apartment in the city! I know from being the inheritor for the last four years." said Maurice.

"It could be anywhere! I need to sort this out with Firmin and Andre, are they in their office?" Erik asked Antoinette. She paled,

"Yes...but I wouldn't go in there if I were you..." Suddenly, Erik became suspicious so he turned and charged through the door.

"Erik! Don't!" cried Antoinette. Erik stopped short when he saw La Carlotta sitting before Firmin's desk. She had been rattling on about Venice for the last ten minutes and Firmin and Andre slumped in their seats praying she would get to the point she had come to make. But when Erik came in, Carlotta turned to look at him, and instantly paled. Then, with a fiery anger swelling in her eyes, she slowly stood up. Sensing the tension, and fearing for Erik, Andre pleaded with Carlotta,

"Senora! It isn't what you think!" She turned on him and yelled,

"What I think? I think the Phantom of the Opera iza ztanding before me! He threatened me and he killed my love!" Confused and looking at his new friend, Maurice said,

"The Phantom of the Opera?" With her face in her hand, Antoinette leaned on the door frame and said,

"To quote my Jewish friends, Oy Vey!" Carlotta glared at the partners pointing a finger of accusation,

"I don't know what he haz over your headz now, but I'm going to call the police! I'm going, bye bye!"

"Senora please! Let us explain!" cried Firmin standing. She shook him off,

"No! No! I'm really going now, bye bye!" She began to make for the door when Erik blocked her path,

"Senora, I don't want to hurt you. But you must see reason!" he told her trying to control his temper, his tone of voice failing miserably. She cowered for a moment and then with reluctant determination, she slapped Erik hard across the cheek,

"You killed my love! Bye bye Ghozt Man!" She stepped into the outer office, the partners begging her not to say anything. Maurice turned to Antoinette and whispered,

"Erik was that Opera Ghost everyone talked about until the war happened?"

"I'm afraid so. But he is not that man anymore, Mousier! Please...please Maurice, don't tell anyone! Don't turn Erik in!" begged Antoinette. Maurice mulled it over for a moment, then he smiled and said,

"Being friends with a ghost. That should really get my mother's dander up!" She released a breath she didn't know she had been holding and said,

"Merci Mousier."

"I'm going to help the gentlemen calm La Carlotta down. I'll leave you to our favorite specter!" said Maurice pointing to the open window. He left and Antoinette noted the empty room, before walking over to the window and looking out. When she looked to her left side, she saw Erik; standing on the ledge leaning against the wall, positively fuming and blowing smoke out of his ears. She smiled and leaned on the ledge sawing,

"Are you going to stand out here and pout all day or need I remind you we have a case to wrap up?"

"I'm not pouting!" barked Erik with his lower lip sticking out.

"Uh-huh. So I take it Carlotta is not your favorite person in the world!" she said.

"Humph!" grunted Erik. She held out a hand to him and said gently,

"Get in here!" She began to see that eternal little boy in him return to be stubborn, but he sighed and stepped down from the window taking her hand. She rubbed his arms and said taking both of his hands in hers,

"Erik, you mustn't let people like her make you afraid of being caught. For they're going to have to deal with me first!" Erik cracked a small smile,

"Are they now?" She shook her head,

"I'm not letting you get away that easy!" Erik looked warmly into her eyes before leaning over, aiming for her lips. But he was interrupted with Carlotta coming back in followed by the partners and Maurice saying,

"No, no, no! I muzt go to the police! I muzt!"

"Senora please! He's changed! And he's more than repaid his debt to society so let's just let bygones be bygones!" said Firmin. Carlotta began to weep,

"I waz juzt trying to win a bet from Mlle. Cartier! Zhe zaid thiz big fat policeman at the party waz cheating on hiza wife becauze he znapped hiza fingerz and cried out, 'Provance! Of courze!' I told her zhe waz wrong, so zhe told me to prove it, zo I came to you two! I don't need thiz aggravation!" Something snapped in Erik's mind and he took Carlotta by the shoulders and asked,

"Are you sure a POLICEMAN said PROVINCE?"

"Ci?" she said scared. Erik beamed,

"Madame, for the first time in your life, you have proved yourself useful!" He dashed out of the office with Antoinette on his heels yelling,

"Erik! Erik!" Firmin and Andre followed with Firmin saying,

"He's solved the case, Andre!" Maurice went out next with a confused Carlotta bringing up the rear asking to anyone ahead of her,

"The Ghozt Man haz a name?" Erik hailed a cab that Antoinette jumped in just in time, leaving everyone else to follow in a different cab. The drive to Province was slow and infuriating Erik, but a few hours later, they stopped in the small village and Erik burst out demanding the driver,

"How much for your lead horse?"

"Mousier!" cried the driver in disbelief.

"How MUCH?" barked Erik.

"Ten francs?" suggested the driver. Erik tossed him his coin pouch and began to unhitch the animal with Antoinette on his heels asking,

"What are you going to do?" Leading the horse away from the team by the reins, Erik said,

"I'm going to get Letrec."

"How?" she demanded as Erik ignored her for a moment to ask a merchant where the Richard estate was. "How?"

"I'll think of something! Time is short!" said Erik swinging up into the saddle. Antoinette grabbed hold of the reins,

"The last time you galloped off after the villain you got shot!"

"Toni, let go!" Erik told her.

"You aren't getting rid of me that easy!" she told him with an even determination in her eyes. Erik became locked in her gaze and sighed. He pulled her up into the saddle behind him with his right hand and then galloped off down the country road just as the partners, Maurice and La Carlotta poked their heads out of the cab.

"Erik! Blast! Come! Let's get some backup!" said Firmin getting back in.

Meanwhile, Antoinette's heart was racing with adrenaline as she held on to Erik, her arms wrapped around his torso.

"_This certainly wasn't in the job description! Oh Father in Heaven, keep us safe!" _she prayed. Soon, they came up to a large cottage with a roaring fire in the front and charred remains of furniture in the center.

"We're too late!" said Antoinette. Hearing a crash of glass from inside, Erik said dismounting,

"Not quite!" He stepped cautiously inside the open door and saw Letrec amidst a pile of old processions. Seeing a curtain cord, Erik took it down and silently made a Punjab lasso. A master ventriloquist, Erik threw his voice on the other side of the room,

"Is there a problem, Officer?" Startled, Letrec shot at a Ming Vase in the corner as Erik threw his lasso. However, Letrec moved and Erik's lasso missed it's target. Seeing Erik now, Letrec glared at him and pointed a gun at him,

"Who are you? One of them cowboys from America?" Erik fingered his lasso and began to circle Letrec,

"No. I work with M. Andre and M. Firmin. And I'm placing you under citizen's arrest for the murder of Roland Richard!" Erik told him.

"You're going to have to catch me first!" said Letrec throwing a rug in his face. Erik fumbled with it, before flinging it off his face and running out the front door. Erik skidded to a halt when he saw Antoinette struggling in Letrec grasp with the gun at her head. Letrec said darkly as he stood before the fire,

"I don't want to kill the girl, but I will if I have to!"

"Let her go!" demanded Erik.

"You shouldn't have brought your tramp along Mousier. The fault is yours and now so is the decision. The girl or me?" asked Letrec, Erik's nostrils flared angrily before he threw the lasso to the ground.

"Now, she's coming with me so don't follow!" said Letrec.

"Don't worry!" said Antoinette before kicking backwards into his shin, elbowing him in the stomach pushing against him and kicking his groin. Letrec let go and stumbled backwards, right into the flames. He screamed and Erik wrapped his coat around his hand and took Letrec's pulling him out. Still aflame, Letrec screamed as Erik beat the fire out with his coat. Just as Letrec's scream's turned into weeping and a collection of horses and carriages with local policemen showed up, Antoinette looked at Erik and finished,

"He won't!" As the locals scrambled to get Letrec into a cart to be rushed to the doctor, Erik wrapped his arms around Antoinette, thanking God she was there.


	8. Epilogue

**_A/N" Stay Tuned for The Phantom and the Secretary Mysteries #3: Murder in the Bayou; I'm sending the gang to Louisana! You'll find out more about Antoinette and her past right along side Erik! Meanwhile, if anyone has any suggestions for the plot, I'm open to them!_**

**_Enjoy!_**

**_peace, love and lipgloss, _**

**_Mlle.Fox_**

Epilogue

Erik arrived at the doorstep of the Richards at a quarter till six on Saturday. Maurice was sitting alone at a card table as his mother poured him some tea when he looked up to Erik and smiled,

"Erik, old man! Good to see you!"

"Mousier Richard. Madame!" said Erik bowing. The Widow Richard sniffed,

"Just because you helped Mousiers Andre and Firmin catch my husband's killer doesn't mean I have to like you Mousier!"

"Mother!" warned Richard.

"I've stated my peace! Now I shall respect my son's wishes and let him enjoy his company! Excuse me!" said Madame Richard preparing to make her exit. But she stopped and smiled at Erik,

"Thank you!" Erik smiled at her and nodded,

"Bon Soir Madame!" She left them and Maurice said,

"You're here early!"

"I'm afraid I need to be taught how to play poker. And I'd thought you'd like to know a certain former police sergeant has been formally charged with your father's murder and treason against France. And he still looks like I believe you said, "A roast Christmas goose?" Erik told him. Maurice smiled knowingly,

"If only my mother knew you solved the case and not the partners!"

"I prefer to stay in the background. Old habits are hard to break! Besides, they did more than enough to help." said Erik sitting down. Dealing out some cards, Maurice asked,

"And Mlle. Carone? Was she of much help?" Thinking back to learning about how his first love had prayed to God for Erik to find his true love, Erik smiled and said,

"She's the answer to a prayer."

The End


End file.
